Collision, Part 2
by MissLindaLee
Summary: Two forces are about to collide on a whole new level. Picks up where Collision, Part 1, left off. Dukes/Numb3rs Universe
1. Chapter 1

**Balladeer: Welcome to River City. No, not that River City, ya'll, so don't git yer shorts all knotted up. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, I was talkin' about River City. Actually, most people call this place the Nation's Capital. That's right, folks, I'm talkin' about Washington D.C. Now, I'm sure yer all wonderin' why we're here in the first place. Well, remember last time we talked, and I said Cooter and Kelly's story was far from over? Well, I meant it. Ya see, Cooter and Kelly mean a lot to everyone in Hazzard, and that also includes me. 'Sides, Cooter is the Vice-President, and he kinda works here in D.C . . . and Kelly hasn't really been allowed to leave his side since the whole Hazzard incident. So, while them Dukes couldn't follow the Davenports, it don't mean I can't.**

The activity in the Presidential suite of the Madison was anything but calm as two men paced around the suite, dressed in black tuxedo pants, shoes, and shirts, with their ties, jackets and cummerbunds draped over chairs and couches. Sitting in a fancy upholstered chair, fully dressed, and reading the complimentary Time magazine that he found in the room, was an elder man, fully dressed in a black tuxedo. He had brown hair that turned white near his ears, and he glanced through a pair of glasses at the two men walking around. The taller of the two men standing had brown hair slicked back and the other man was slightly shorter and younger, with unkempt brown hair just past his ears.

"All I'm saying is that you need to just stop worrying about this whole thing, okay, Charlie?" the taller man said to the younger one. "You're going to be fine."

Charlie grabbed his cummerbund and nervously fastened it around his waist. "That's easy for you to say," he replied. "You're not speaking tonight."

"It's not like you haven't spoken in front of people before," the taller man replied.

"Don, this is the first time I've spoke in a crowd that consists of the Vice-President," the younger man retorted. "And a whole slew of other VIPs."

"Well, think of something else," Don said. "Think of your favorite equation."

"That's not helping," Charlie replied.

"Well, I hear the VP's daughter is going to be there," Don replied wryly. "From what I heard she's pretty …."

"Hot?" the elder man asked from his chair.

"Distracting," the older brother replied, giving his father a look. "Dad, she's young enough to be your daughter." He turned to his younger brother. "Scratch that. Dad's already thinking of her."

"I am not thinking about her, my boy," the father said as he put his magazine down and got to his feet. "I was just asking a question." He walked over to the two men and put his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "Now, Charlie, your brother's right: you're going to be just fine." He handed his sons their garments. "But we need to hurry up. It won't help the situation if the guest speaker is late to his own lecture." He smiled as he watched the two men finish getting dressed.

- - - -

Cooter was adjusting his tie as he looked at his reflection in the exquisite full length mirror in his bedroom. He nodded, smiling as he smoothed back his hair, satisfied with his formal appearance. He headed for the front door and opened it, seeing the two agents from his security detail, Steven Brantley and Jack Casey. "I'm ready," he said.  
The Vice-President walked down the corridor with his detail until he came to another door. Paul stood on one side the door, and another agent, Brandon Hudson, stood on the other side. Cooter glared at Paul as he walked up to the door.

**Balladeer: Maybe I better fill you folks in on why Cooter looks like he's about to kill Paul. Well, you see, he wasn't too happy with Paul for everythin' that had happened while he was watchin' Kelly, and he was recommendin' that the agent be fired, but Kelly had reminded him – rather loudly – that Paul had saved her life, so all the agent got was a severe reprimand and docked a week's worth of pay; he also got to remain on Kelly's detail, but he was on a long probation.**

Cooter knocked on the door. "Kelly," he said. "It's time to go."

"I'm not ready!" Kelly replied from inside the room. "I'm still fixing my hair!"

Cooter sighed. "You said you were almost ready," he said.

"Well, I'm sorry, but my hair decided to have a mind of its own," Kelly replied. "Look, I'll meet you there, okay?"

"Fine," Cooter replied. "You have ten minutes." He turned and left with his detail. After they disappeared down the stairs Kelly's bedroom door slowly opened, and the young woman poked her head out.

"Is he gone?" she asked.

"He's gone," Paul replied. He eyed her warily. "You are planning on going to the banquet, aren't you?"

Kelly smiled and came out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She was dressed in a shiny royal blue form-fitting satin dress with spaghetti straps. Her shoes were thin and silver in color, with two-inch heels and clear lace-ups; blue ribbons that matched her dressed looped around her ankles. Her hair was done up in a mass of tousled curls and held in place by a silver clip, and she carried a matching blue clutch. Her jewelry was simple yet elegant: dangling diamond earrings and a simple gold locket with KAD engraved on the front.

"Yes," Kelly replied. "I just don't want to go with him."

"Look, I don't really care if you go with your father or not," Brandon spoke up, "but you will go to the banquet. Now, are you ready to go?"

"Actually, I forgot something in my room," Kelly said. She went back into her room, closing the door behind her.

"Brandon, why don't you go down and make sure everything's secure?" Paul suggested. "I'll bring her down when she's ready." Brandon eyed his partner with suspicion for a few seconds before turning and leaving. After he disappeared down the stairs, Paul glanced around to make sure he was alone before opening the door and walking in, shutting the door behind him. He saw Kelly staring out her bedroom window. "Hey, you okay?"

"Not really," Kelly said softly. She sighed and turned around. "I don't want to go. Not after what he did – to you or to me."

Paul sighed. Since getting back to D.C. the two really hadn't had a chance to talk about what happened at all, but Paul had picked up on Kelly's feelings toward her father; they were almost as strong as Cooter's attitude toward the agent. "Look, Kelly, I know you're still mad at your father, but -"

"Aren't you?" Kelly asked. "Look at what he did to you."

"And then look at what you did for me," Paul retorted. "Sure, I'm on Probation, sure I lost a week's pay . . . but I'm still here." He shrugged. "All things considered, I'm fine with it."

"Why?" Kelly asked.

"Because I still get to protect you," Paul answered. Kelly slowly turned around. "You seem shocked."

"Well, considering what happened to you in Hazzard," Kelly replied, "and that I slugged you, I would think you'd be holding a grudge against me."

Paul smiled. "I see what happened as a learning experience," he said.

Kelly folded her arms. "How so?"

Paul chuckled. "You're kidding, right?" he asked. "Kelly, I worked for the D.C. Police for six years, and then the Secret Service for three. I have never known anyone like you."

"Thanks," Kelly replied wryly.

"No, that's a good thing," Paul said. He walked over and put his hands on Kelly's shoulders. "Kelly, protecting you is both an honor and an adventure. You've taught me more about history, archery, cars, dancing and fighting in two days than I've learned during any of my training." He shrugged. "And I got the chance to finally see who you really are."

"A whiny b---h?" Kelly asked sarcastically.

"No," Paul answered, ignoring her remark. "Yes, you do things you shouldn't, but you also choose to live for the moment." He took a deep breath. "You have a passion for life, and that's something a lot of people try to get, but they fall short of. You don't, regardless of what kind of problems you're having with your father. I admire that."

"You do?" Kelly asked.

"I do," Paul replied. "I mean, yeah, keeping up with you is a lot harder than I thought it would be, but I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Kelly was touched, and she knew she would probably be crossing a line, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around Paul's neck and hugged him tightly, leaning her head against him. Paul was a bit startled at first, but he slowly smiled and hugged her back.

**Balladeer: Awwwwwww, ain't that kinda sweet? Good to know that in the middle of all that's goin' on with her and her father Kelly has at least one person she can talk to. Kinda wish it was her own father, but for now Paul'll do just nicely.**

- - - -

Charlie sat in his place at the head table in the banquet room of the hotel. Alan sat on his left and his brother on his right. The youngest of the three men fiddled with his index cards, flipping through them and mouthing to himself, trying to keep calm and remember what he was there to do. Suddenly, he felt a strong hand clamp onto his shoulder. He turned to his left and saw his father smiling at him.

"You'll do fine," Alan said. "Now, you know that stuff front and back, so put them away. The guests are arriving."

"Yeah," Don said, smirking. "Since when did you need crib notes to put a room to sleep?"

"Ha," Charlie said before taking a deep breath and putting his cards in his jacket pocket. He glanced up and saw people in formal wear filing into the large room as they were announced and taking seats at their appropriate tables. The young man glanced at the three empty chairs on the other half of the circular table; he swallowed nervously, knowing they were reserved for the Vice President himself, his daughter, and the Director of the FBI. He looked back over at the entrance when he heard the Director being announced, and he and his father and brother stood up as the Director approached the table. The four men shook hands and sat down, where they began talking. A few minutes passed, then ….

"Ladies and gentleman, Vice-President Davenport, and Miss Kelly Davenport," the announcer said. Everyone stood up and applauded as Cooter walked into the room, with Kelly walking on his left side, her arm through his.

Charlie raised an eyebrow as he briefly paused in his clapping. "Uh . . . that's the Vice President's daughter?" he asked. Father and daughter both smiled and waved as they made their way through the crowd with six men in tuxedos behind them; Charlie knew they were Secret Service, and he suddenly felt very nervous.

"What were you expecting?" Alan asked with amusement as he continued clapping. "An eight-legged spider?"

"Well, no," Charlie replied as he went back to clapping, "but she looks so . . . ."

"Blonde?" Don suggested. "It's not her natural hair color; I saw a photo of her from a few weeks ago; she's a brunette."

"Actually, she looks shorter than I thought she'd be," Charlie replied as Cooter and Kelly came over to their table.

"Director Adams," Cooter said, holding his hand out, "good to see you again."

"Likewise, Mr. Vice-President," the Director replied. He smiled and held his hand out to Kelly. "Miss Davenport."

"Director Adams," Kelly smiled and nodded politely, shaking his hand.

"Mr. Vice-President," Director Adams said, "Miss Davenport, I'd like to introduce you to our guest of honor, Dr. Charles Eppes, and his family, Alan Eppes, and Special Agent Donovan Eppes."

Cooter smiled and shook Charlie's hand. "We've heard a lot of good things about you, Dr. Eppes," he said. "Look forward to hearing your presentation tonight." He turned to Alan and Don, shaking their hands. "Mr. Eppes, Agent Eppes, a pleasure."

Kelly followed in succession, first shaking Charlie's hand, then Alan's, and finally Don's. She just smiled and nodded to each of them before they all took their seats. Two of the Secret Service agents stood behind Cooter and Kelly, while the others went about their duties.

The maiter'd walked over to their table. "Is champagne acceptable for everyone?" he asked.

"I'll have a scotch on the rocks, please," Kelly replied. She glanced to her side and saw Cooter giving her a look; she smiled at the maiter'd. "Ginger ale, please." The maiter'd nodded and left the table. The young woman saw that everyone at the table was staring at her. "What?"

"Pretty big drink for someone your age," Alan answered.

"Well, don't worry, Mr. Eppes," Kelly replied, smiling. "I'll make sure to only have two glasses of ginger ale tonight." She felt a swift kick under the table, and she knew it was from her father. She glanced at him and briefly narrowed her eyes at him before turning back to the guests; she looked at Charlie. "So, what are you a Doctor of?"

"Actually, I'm a Professor of Applied Mathematics at CalSci in Los Angeles," Charlie replied.

"Aren't you a little young to be a professor?" Kelly asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Well, age shouldn't have a bearing on something that requires knowledge," Charlie answered. "Believe me, I know. I graduated high school when I was nine."

"Actually, age is very important, Dr. Eppes," Kelly replied. "Intelligence is one thing, but if you lack the social abilities that your peers already have due to an extreme age difference, then that can have serious implications on social developmental skills."

"And what do you do, Miss Davenport?" Don asked, leaning in a little, an amused smile on his face. He knew this could get a little interesting, especially when his brother's intelligence was challenged.

"I'm working on completing my doctorate in Abnormal Psychology," Kelly replied. "I just have to do a six-month internship."

Don nodded. "Yep, you sound like a shrink," he replied as the waiter came over and handed out their drinks.

"Actually," Kelly said, sipping her ginger ale, "a 'shrink,' Agent Eppes, would fall under the classification of Clinical Psychology, and that's not something I'm interested in pursuing." Charlie could see her eyes glaze over a bit as Cooter glanced at her, a slightly concerned look on his face; the professor furrowed his eyebrows a little, but then Kelly smiled brightly. "I plan to pursue a career in Forensic Psychology, specifically Profiling."

"Hell of a field for someone so young," Don replied.

"Well, I find the human mind to be quite a fascinating place of study," Kelly said. "Human behavior is so unpredictable."

"Actually, it's not," Charlie spoke up. "Human behavior can be quite predictable, if you know the right mathematical equations to use when studying them."

Kelly forced a smile. "Are you experienced in any field of Psychology, Dr. Eppes?" she asked.

"Well, no, not specifically," Charlie replied.

Cooter leaned over. "Kelly," he said, his voice low, "drop it."

"Daddy, I'm just asking a question," Kelly replied. She turned back to Charlie. "So, if you're not experienced in any field of Psychology, Dr. Eppes, then what makes you think you understand human behavior?"

"Because it's all based on numbers," Charlie answered. "Everything is numbers."

"Here we go again," Don said softly, leaning back in his chair. There was one problem with challenging Charlie's intelligence: he wouldn't back down, and all indications were that the Vice-President's daughter wouldn't be backing down anytime soon either. Don glanced at his father, and he was surprised that he looked amused, leaning in to see who would win the little debate. The Director also looked very interested, but the Vice President . . . . well, he looked less than pleased.

"Really?" Kelly asked.

"Uh, Miss Davenport," Don said gently, "Charlie's a good debater when it comes to numbers."

"And I'm a good debater when it comes to people," Kelly replied. She turned back to Charlie. "You were saying, Dr. Eppes?"

"Math is in the real world, okay?" Charlie said. "It's everywhere. The Fibonacci Sequence, for instance. It's in the structure of crystals, galaxy spirals, and nautilus shells. Are you familiar with the Golden Ratio?"

"The number 1.618?" Kelly asked.

Charlie paused and tilted his head slightly, a small smile on his lips. "Actually, the number is 1.61803, to be more precise," he said, "but yes, that's the number." He paused. "How do you know about it?"

"The pyramids in Giza are a hobby of mine," Kelly answered, trying not to get ruffled for having been corrected like that. "The design, the history, the artifacts and stories . . . my father and I actually explored them earlier this year. They're very fascinating."

"Yes, they are," Charlie said. "And as you're well aware of the Golden Ratio pops up in all of those structures. It also shows up in the Parthenon at Athens, and in the dimensions of a credit card. It's also a number that can be found in the petals of a flower. Math is nature's language, its method of communicating directly with us. Everything is numbers."

Kelly nodded, her smile forced. Who did this guy think he was, telling her that numbers were everything, like numbers were the most important things on Earth. What a pompous a--, she thought to herself. She opened her mouth to say something, but then the appetizer for the evening arrived: cocktail shrimp. Now, Kelly loved a good debate, but she also loved shrimp – and she was hungry. She grabbed her cocktail fork and speared a shrimp; she dipped it into the cocktail sauce and bit into it. She smiled; these shrimp in particular were juicy and succulent, and the sauce mingled wonderfully with them.

The young woman looked up as she chewed, and she saw Charlie looking at her, then he smiled and pointed to the left corner of his mouth. She furrowed her eyebrows, then he slightly brushed his finger near his mouth. Kelly frowned. Has he lost it? she thought. Charlie then sighed and made a big show of sticking out his tongue and licking the corner of his mouth. Kelly slammed her fork down in disgust.

"Okay, what is your problem?" she asked. Everyone stopped and looked at her like she had lost it.

"What?" Charlie asked.

"Pointing at your mouth and sticking your tongue out," Kelly said. "That's disgusting."

"Well, I was trying to be discrete," Charlie replied, "but since it didn't work, I'll just tell you."

"Tell me what?" Kelly asked.

"You have some cocktail sauce on the corner of your mouth," Charlie replied.

"What?" Kelly asked. She reached up and touched the corner of her mouth, then she glanced at her finger; there was some cocktail sauce on her fingertip. Suddenly, the young woman's cheeks grew very warm, and she quickly grabbed her napkin and dabbed the sauce from her mouth, and then she put her napkin down. She went back to eating her shrimp in silence (without the sauce), too humiliated to even look anyone in the eye, so she missed the slightly sympathetic – and amused - expression on Charlie's face as he watched her for a few moments before going back to eating his shrimp.

**Balladeer: Now, as much as I love Kelly she did kinda go a little overboard, especially when that Dr. Eppes fella was just trying to be nice and all, so seeing her git set in her place, even though Dr. Eppes wasn't doin' it to be mean, was a little refreshin' – and maybe just what the girl needs.**

- - - -

Dinner – filet mignon and steamed vegetables - soon followed the shrimp. The others talked to each other about pretty much whatever was on their minds, but Kelly didn't interact at all. She was still embarrassed that she blew up at Charlie, and she knew her father was probably still mad at her; she was being stubborn by avoiding everyone, but she didn't care. She didn't eat much – she just took a few nibbles of her entrée and moved around the rest of the food. Dessert – Baked Alaska – and coffee came shortly after the dinner plates were taken away. All the desserts were set aflame, save for Kelly's dish; the flames were extinguished at the table, but Kelly chuckled mirthlessly when her untouched dish was set in front of her and the waiters left.

"Typical," Kelly replied.

"Kelly," Cooter said, his voice low, "not here."

"Why not here?" Kelly asked a little louder as she pushed her plate away. Everyone else at the table cautiously looked up, wondering what was going on between father and daughter.

"Because you're old enough to know better," Cooter replied, hoping that she wouldn't make a scene.

"You're a piece of work, you know that," Kelly said as she stuck her fork into her dish but made no attempt to eat it, even though it was one of her favorite desserts and she was hungry. "You're still mad about Heathrow, aren't you?"

"I am not mad," Cooter replied, his voice low, feeling embarrassed that the entire table was watching himself and his daughter. "I just don't think you should be around flames at the moment."

"It was just a smoke bomb," Kelly said. "No fire."

"Now, that sounds like an interesting story," Don replied, his voice low as he leaned over toward his brother.

"Actually, Agent Eppes, it's not," Kelly replied. "Now, blowing up the outhouse on my uncles' farm … that's an interesting story."

"You ... blew something up?" Don asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I've blown up many things," Kelly replied. She felt a swift kick, and she knew it was her father. She smiled forcefully – and then she kicked him back. He glared right at her, but she didn't back down as she returned the glare. She knew she was going to be in big trouble later, but she didn't care. After a few moments of staring at her father she turned to the other guests and smiled as she grabbed her clutch. "I have to go powder my nose. If you gentleman will please excuse me." She stood up, and then everyone at the table started standing up; she stopped them. "Please, don't get up on my account. Really." She walked off with Paul following behind her.

"I must apologize for my daughter's behavior," Cooter replied. "She's had a rough week." He knew that wasn't the case, but he was hoping they'd buy it; he was embarrassed as it is without them knowing that his own daughter hated him.

"She got kidnapped last week, didn't she?" Alan asked. Cooter looked over at the eldest Eppes, almost surprised. "I apologize if I asked something I shouldn't have. I just remember that being on the news earlier this week."

"She was, Mr. Eppes," Cooter replied. "We're both still dealing with what happened, but thank you for your concern." He glanced at his wristwatch, then he looked at Charlie. "I think it's time you begin your lecture, Dr. Eppes."

Charlie knew that the Vice-President was upset with how Kelly was behaving, and he knew better than to say anything at the moment. He simply nodded and stood up, making sure he had his note cards with him. The Director stood up and led the young man over to the stage and podium. He introduced Charlie to the rest of the audience, and the professor began his speech. Cooter only half-listened to the young man's presentation, his mind wondering back to his daughter, his thoughts already whirling with what he wanted to do to her when she returned.

**Balladeer: And it don't take a genius to figure that one out, folks.**

(End of Chapter 1)


	2. Chapter 2

- - - - 

Kelly lay on her back on the lone couch in the parlor of the ladies room. Her head was propped up with a pillow at one end of the couch, and her legs hung over the far end; she swung her feet slightly. Her clutch was on a nearby table, and she held a Game Boy Advance in her hands, staring at the screen intently as she played Zelda II: The Adventure of Link. The tip of her tongue poked out from between her lips as she worked to defeat a pack of Daira in the 4th Palace.

"Die, Daira scum," she said as she used Link's sword to kill the beasts.

Paul sat in a chair near the door. He had locked the door to keep people out, using the 'Vice President's daughter is feeling a little under the weather and needs to rest' excuse with the staff; it worked, but the Secret Service wasn't sure how long it would work. He leaned on his elbow, glancing at his watch; it had been about half an hour since they left the banquet, and Paul knew the lecture had already started, and that Cooter wasn't going to be happy when they finally returned, especially with how Kelly left. He sighed. "Are you ready to go back yet?" he asked.

"I want to finish this level," Kelly replied. "It's taken me forever to get this far."

"Yeah, well, your father's going to have a coronary if we don't get back soon," Paul replied.

"Yeah, well, he can wait a little longer," Kelly said. "Especially after he kicked me under the table – twice."

Paul rubbed his forehead, but he decided to drop it – for now. "So, you're playing Link tonight?"

"Yep."

"Why not Oregon Trail? Or that Nascar game?"

"Well, the way I'm feeling right now," Kelly explained, keeping her eyes on her game, "I'm too mad to drive, so I'd be crashing perfectly good cars, and I just got my wagon party to the Donner Pass in Oregon Tail. Now, there's going to be some of my people starving to death, and the rest are going to survive by resorting to cannibalism – which you know is going to result in serious psychological issues. Either way, I'm not in the mood to deal with that; I'd rather kill things instead."

Paul nodded, pursing his lips. "Okay," he said slowly.

Kelly smiled and went back to her game. She went through the palace until she came to the boss. She used all her spells and powers, and she finally defeated the boss. She leapt to her feet, shrieking with glee as she did a victory dance. "I'm good! I'm good!" she chanted. "Oh yeah, I'm good!"

In spite of himself, Paul smiled as he got to his feet. "Okay, now can we go back?" he asked.

"Sure," Kelly replied. She grabbed her clutch, stuffed the Game Boy in it, and closed it back up, then she checked herself in a nearby mirror, smoothing her dress out and making sure her hair wasn't messed up. She smiled at Paul. "Let's go."

The two left the ladies room and headed back to the banquet. The lecture had already ended, and a band was playing soft music as guests danced and mingled. Kelly saw the Director and all three of the Eppes men in the crowd, talking with other people; her father was sitting at the table. The young woman made her way over and sat down.

"So, feeling any better?" Cooter asked.

"Well, I was until now," Kelly replied sarcastically. "So, who tattled?"

"The concierge himself came over during the lecture to let me know that if there was anything you needed to just ask," Cooter replied in a low voice. "Took me a second to realize what he must have been talking about. I had to assure him – and everyone at the table – that you probably just had something disagree with you. Thankfully, he seemed to buy it, but I can tell you everyone here at the table didn't." He looked directly at his daughter, his eyes full of anger. "Now, look here, I don't care what's going on with you right now, but you will act your age in public, and you will respect me."

"I could say the same to you," Kelly replied in a low voice as she shipped Ginger Ale from her glass. "I mean, kicking me under the table – twice – isn't exactly something a Vice-President does – unless I'm mistaken."

**Balladeer: Oh, now, Kelly, honey . . . that wasn't the smartest thing to say ….**

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, young lady," Cooter replied. "I'm still your father, and I'm not afraid to take you over my knee right here and right now." Kelly snorted. "Need I remind you of what happened in Hazzard the last time you called my bluff?"

Kelly stiffened. She could still vividly see what her father did to her that day, how humiliated she had been. She wasn't sure if he'd do that to her here, if he'd risk public face here to discipline her – but she wasn't willing to take that risk. She simply glowered as she looked at the crowd, silently fuming.

"Now, you listen to me," Cooter replied. "You're going to do something to make up for leaving, because not only was it embarrassing to me, it was rude to our guest of honor. That being the case . . . I think you owe him a dance."

Kelly jerked her head over to look at her father. "You have got to be kidding me," she said. "Dance? With him?"

"Yes," Cooter replied. "You. Him. Dance. Now." Kelly was tempted to tell him to shove it, but she knew better. She put her drink down and sighed, then she got to her feet; Cooter grabbed her arm. "And be nice about it."

Kelly jerked her arm from her father's grip and took a few deep breaths to calm herself before she stood tall and forced herself to smile as she calmly walked over to where Charlie stood with his father, brother, and a few other people that Kelly recognized as local federal agents. Everyone looked over as she approached.

"Ah, Miss Davenport," Alan said, smiling warmly at the young woman. "Feeling better?"

"Much better, thank you, Mr. Eppes," Kelly replied. She said hello to the agents, then turned to Charlie. "I apologize for missing your lecture, Dr. Eppes."

"Don't worry about," Charlie said. "You weren't feeling well. It's understandable." He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "Besides, it wasn't really that good of a lecture."

"Charlie, you're too hard on yourself," Alan said. He turned to Kelly. "He's always too hard on himself."

"Dad," Charlie tried to chide his father without looking embarrassed. He felt his cheeks getting warm, and he hoped they weren't too red as he glanced at Kelly.

Kelly just smiled. She didn't want to be there, but she knew the alternative, and she figured one little dance would be less painful – she hoped. She took a deep breath. "Um, Dr. Eppes, I feel really bad that I wasn't able to be at your lecture, and I was wondering if you would let me have the honor of a dance as a way to make up for my absence?" _Please say no, please say no, please say no_, she thought to herself.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, and he glanced at his father and brother. He knew they were more surprised than they appeared. He had never had a girl be so forward with him, and he wasn't sure what to do. He glanced over at his table and saw Cooter watching him intently. Then he instantly knew why Kelly was over there. He was tempted to say no, but he wasn't sure if Kelly would get into trouble if he refused, so he smiled politely.

"Sure," he replied slowly.

_I hate you_, Kelly thought to herself as she kept smiling. "Great." She held out her hand, and he reluctantly took it. The two headed for the dance floor as the rest of the group watched them.

"How much do you want to bet she was told to come over by her father?" Don asked his father in a low voice.

"Donny, be nice," Alan replied. "We don't know that, and it's bad to assume that."

"So, you don't think that at all?" Don asked.

"Oh, I think it," Alan replied. "It's just bad to assume it." He went back to watching his son with a small smile on his face.

Charlie felt like every eye in the room was on him as he and Kelly walked to a space on the dance floor; he glanced around and saw some people watching them. Kelly turned to Charlie as the music started.

Kelly leaned in close to him, still smiling. "Okay, look here," she said, her voice low with edge, "you and I both know neither of us wants to be here, but it's only for one song, so smile, put your hands around me, and don't step on my toes." She put her left hand on his right shoulder.

"I don't know how to dance," Charlie said softly, trying to keep his cool.

"Then I'll lead," Kelly replied. She took his right hand and put it near her lower back, his arm wrapping around her waist. She saw his cheeks growing red, but she ignored them as she put her left hand back on his shoulder then took his left hand in her right hand. "Just follow me." She started swaying slowly to the beat, and soon Charlie joined her; he was a little choppy, but he was able to keep up with her as they remained quiet, slowly rocking on their feet to the rhythm of the music.

Charlie felt really awkward dancing with the young woman, especially when she didn't really want to be around him, much less dance with him. He cleared his throat. "Look, um, if I did anything to offend you," he said slowly, "then I'm sorry. If you're mad because of what I said about numbers, then . . . well, I'm not sorry about that, because that's what I do for a living."

"Look, you can say whatever you want about numbers," Kelly replied. "I really don't give a flying flip about numbers. I don't even really care about the stupid Golden Ratio. If anything, I'm mad because you stuck your tongue out at me. Really, was that necessary?"

"I was trying to be subtle," Charlie replied. "Surely someone who's planning on being a psychologist could pick up those subtleties."

Kelly titled her head. "So, now you're insulting my intelligence," she said.

Charlie sighed. "I'm not insulting your intelligence. In fact . . . I'm impressed by it - you're . . . how old?" He saw Kelly raise an eyebrow at him, and he realized he just stuck his foot on his mouth. "Not a good question to ask, huh?"

"Not really," Kelly replied.

"Sorry," Charlie said. He took a deep breath. "Look, it's obvious that you're very bright, but there's something bothering you tonight. I mean, you said you really don't want to be here."

"You know, why I'm here is really none of your dn business," Kelly said quietly.

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows a little. Here he was trying to be nice to her by dancing with her so she wouldn't get into trouble with her father, and she was going on the defense – again. He wouldn't normally get annoyed, but she was really starting to push his buttons. "You know," he said quietly, "you said that you really don't want to be here, but here you are. I would think that as an adult you'd be able to decide for yourself where you want to go and what you want to do, but it's apparent by your presence here that you're not able to make those decisions for yourself." Kelly stopped dancing and her smile abruptly ended – and Charlie knew that he had probably gone too far with his comment. He sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't "  
Kelly didn't even give him a chance to finish as she let go of his hand and walked away, leaving Charlie on the dance floor alone. Thankfully, the music had ended, but there were still some people watching as Kelly calmly walked out of the banquet room; Paul hurried after her from his spot as Charlie walked over to his father and brother.

"What was that about?" Alan asked.

"Oh, I said something I shouldn't have," Charlie replied. He glanced over at the Vice-President and saw him getting up from his table and heading off after his daughter with his detail behind him.

"Did you try to pick her up using math?" Don asked.

"No," Charlie said quickly, blushing a little. "Why would I try to pick her up?"

"She's kinda cute," Alan replied.

"Look, I didn't try to pick her up," Charlie said. "Now, if you'll excuse me." He headed out of the room to go find Kelly and apologize to her, regardless of whether or not she deserved that comment.

"He thinks she's cute," Alan said to Don. Don nodded his head in agreement as he took a sip of champagne.

Charlie walked down the hall, trying to figure out where Kelly had gone – and he saw the Vice-President and the Secret Service standing outside the ladies room. He cautiously walked over. "Is Miss Davenport okay?" he carefully asked.

"She's … fine, Dr. Eppes," Cooter replied. "I am truly sorry about her behavior tonight."

"Actually, I should be apologizing," Charlie said. "I said something to her that I shouldn't have."

"Well, regardless of what you said to her," Cooter replied, "she shouldn't have walked off like that." Everyone looked over as Paul came out of the ladies room – alone. "Where is she?"

"She's cooling down, sir," Paul replied. He turned to Charlie. "What did you say to her?"

"It doesn't matter," Cooter replied. "Kelly needs to stop acting like a child."

"Sir, with all due respect," Paul said, "maybe you should let Kelly cool off before talking to her."

Cooter stared at Paul for a few moments. "She has thirty minutes," he said before walking off with his detail.

Charlie looked over at the Secret Service agent, and he cleared his throat. "Um, maybe if I apologized to her …."

"Look, I would seriously advise that you don't go anywhere near her," Paul replied. "Especially if she's mad at you." He gave Charlie a look that said 'I dare you to say anything to me.'

Charlie decided not to push his luck, and he nodded before turning and heading back toward the banquet while Paul waited outside. He was halfway there when he glanced out the large picture window – and he stopped short; he furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out what he was seeing – then his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Shimmying down the large drainpipe, still in her dress and heels, was Kelly; she looked determined as she slowly, and expertly, climbed down the pipe like it was a tree trunk.

The mathematician's eyebrows shot up as tilted his head slightly and opened his mouth. He glanced around, but no one else seemed to notice the young woman except for him. Charlie thought about going over to Paul to let him know that Kelly wasn't in the ladies room, but he decided against it as looked back at the young woman. He had memorized the layout of the hotel before leaving his home – a quirky habit of his – so he knew every inch of the place. He smiled smugly as he hurried toward the back exit.

Kelly's muscles strained as she clung tightly to the drainpipe, keeping her legs wrapped around it as she slowly worked her way down. She kept her eyes on the Capitol in the distance, the stark white building beautifully lit up against the indigo night sky. She paused for a moment, smiling at how beautiful the view was from that height, then she went back to her shimmying. She was about three feet from the ground when she let go and landed on the soft grass. She stood there for a moment, hands on knees, catching her breath. She began to smooth out her dress, then she felt a hand on her shoulder. The young woman froze but only for a second before she grabbed the hand – and the arm attached to it – and flipped its owner over her shoulder. She took a defensive stance over the person, glaring down – then she recognized her 'attacker.'

"You!" she hissed loudly.

Charlie lay on his back, stunned, trying to regain his thoughts. It took him a few moments before he realized what had happened – and another few moments to look up at Kelly, the wind knocked out of him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Kelly asked. "You trying to get yourself killed?"

"Actually," Charlie replied, slowly getting his breath back, "I could ask you the same thing." He glanced up and saw the window she had climbed out of – about twenty feet off the ground. "Wow." He slowly got to his feet and brushed himself off; when he looked up at Kelly, she swiftly slapped him across the face. "Ow!" Charlie rubbed his stinging cheek. "What was that for?"

"That's for what you said to me on the dance floor," Kelly replied.

"And I was coming to apologize for saying it," Charlie said. He knew his cheek was going to smart for a little bit. He was surprised she had such a force in her; she didn't look that strong. "Even though you kind of deserved it."

"Excuse me?" Kelly frowned. "Who do you think you are? You don't even know me."

"No, I don't," Charlie replied, "but all I have to go on is how you've acted in front of me tonight, and by all accounts you have shown that you're a selfish brat."

Kelly narrowed her eyes. "Well, then you don't know me that well," she said, "but, honestly, I really don't care what you think of me." She brushed past him to leave, but Charlie gently grabbed her arm.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"None of your business," Kelly replied, jerking her arm free.

"Maybe not," Charlie said, "but I'm sure your father and the Secret Service would definitely find it to be their business." Kelly stiffened, and she glared at Charlie.

"You do know I could kick you're a, right?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"You probably could," Charlie agreed. "But I would think that if you did that, you'd be in even more hot water than you already are."

"What do you want?" Kelly asked.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said," Charlie replied. "Regardless of how childish you were being, it was wrong of me to say what I said to you. I'm sorry."

"Okay, you apologized," Kelly said. "Now, you can go back to your party."

"And you can come with me," Charlie added.

"Like hell I will," the young woman retorted. "I'm not going back in there."

"And where were you planning on going?" Charlie asked.

"Well, actually I was planning on going to get something to eat," Kelly answered. "And the only option you have is to keep quiet about this whole thing and go back inside. If you don't, I will find you and kick your a so bad that you won't be able to sit down for a week."

"That is one option," Charlie replied, nodding, "but there is another one."

"Oh, really?" Kelly asked. "Pray tell, what is it?"

"I come with you," Charlie said.

Kelly laughed. "Oh, that's funny."

"I'm not kidding."

"Well, you're certainly not coming with me."

"Well, if I don't, then I will go back in there and tell everyone you bolted. I don't think your father would be too thrilled. I could also throw in how you got out here and what you did to me as bonuses."

"You wouldn't dare," Kelly said, narrowing her eyes.

"Are you willing to take that calculated risk, Miss Davenport?" Charlie asked as he folded his arms, standing tall and staring right back at her.

Kelly met his eyes, trying to figure out if she should call his bluff, and after a few moments she decided that letting him tag along would be better than going back in to deal with her father. "Fine," she said, "but let's get a couple things straight. First, this is not a date."

"Believe me, you don't have to tell me that," Charlie replied.

"Secondly, I make the rules," Kelly continued. "You don't get a say. Don't like it? Then you can kiss my a."

"Anything else, Miss Davenport?" Charlie asked wryly.

"Yes," Kelly said. "You can stop calling me 'Miss Davenport.' I hate that. If you have to call me anything, call me Kelly."

Charlie paused, a little put off by her last statement. "Um . . . okay," he said slowly. "Uh . . . I guess you can call me Charlie, then." Kelly nodded curtly, then she reached down and started untying the ribbons on her shoes; she kicked her heels off, and they landed in a nearby bush. "You're not going to wear your shoes?"

"I hate heels too," Kelly replied. "Tried walking a couple blocks in them earlier this year, and I ended up with blisters for three days."

"Well, the odds of you getting your feet cut up increases without wearing shoes," Charlie replied.

"Look, Charlie, I appreciate the concern," Kelly said, "but I spent most of my life running around barefoot. A few blocks in the city are nothing compared to the backwoods of Georgia." She reached into the top of her dress and felt around, then sighed with relief as she pulled out two bra inserts. She tossed them aside, then she looked at Charlie. He looked at the ground, embarrassed, his cheeks red. "Oh, grow up; they're just inserts."

"I'm not saying a word," Charlie said.

"Look, if you must know," Kelly replied. "My dress was delivered earlier today, but the measurements were off by three inches . . . up here." She indicated her chest area with her hands. "They didn't have time to make alterations, so they got me those." She shook my head. "Stupid things felt like suction cups."

"Okay, it's officially time for a change of subject," Charlie said quickly. "Where are going to eat?"

"This place a few blocks down the road," Kelly replied. "'Oodles of Noodles.' Best place to get Asian noodles in D.C."

Charlie nodded, then he saw her dress ripped at her knees – and her right knee skinned and bleeding; he looked worried. "You're bleeding."

Kelly looked down and saw her injury. "Yeah, I did that when I was climbing out the window. Skinned my knee. Doesn't hurt, just stings a little. Now, come on, I'm starving." She grabbed his hand and pulled him with her as they made their way carefully down the street to avoid being seen.

**Balladeer: Hmmm . . . looks to me like our little poltergeist has herself a new partner in crime . . . her daddy's just gonna love that.**

(End of Chapter 2)


	3. Chapter 3

- - - - 

The guests were beginning to leave, but Cooter remained at his table; he was talking with Alan and Don about California cuisine versus Hazzard cuisine, when one of Cooter's agents came over and leaned in close, whispering in his ear. The two Eppes men watched intently as Cooter looked over.

"What do you mean she's gone?" he asked, his voice low.

"We can't find her sir," the agent replied. "The window of the bathroom she was in was open, and we searched the hotel grounds; we found her shoes and . . . um, a couple of other things . . . but she's nowhere to be found."

"I swear, I'm going to kill her," Cooter replied as he got to his feet. He nodded politely to Don and Alan. "Please excuse me."

"Sir, we can't find Dr. Eppes either," the agent added. Cooter looked over as Don and Alan got to their feet.

"Charlie's missing too?" Alan asked.

"Geeze, who is this girl?" Don asked.

Cooter frowned at Don. "Agent Eppes, please." He looked back at his agent. "Any idea where she might be?"

"Not at the moment, sir," the agent replied.

"Well, get on it," Cooter demanded. "And keep it quiet. Last thing I want is for the press to get a hold of this."

"Um, sir, speaking of the press," the agent said slowly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out an unsealed envelope, "this was delivered a few moments ago; it's secure."

Cooter took the envelope and removed its contents: a handful of photos and a handwritten note from a local reporter. The note said 'If you want to avoid these on the front page tomorrow, we need to talk – tonight.' Cooter flipped through the photos, seeing Paul and his daughter in what appeared to be very friendly embraces in her bedroom. Cooter felt a new anger welling up in him as he crumpled the note in one hand, gripping the photos in his other. He turned to his agent.

"Get Alice on the phone," he ordered. Alice was his press secretary. "Let her know about this little ... situation. And get Agent Holden over here immediately. I'd like a word with him." He handed the note to his agent, who took it and left. Cooter sighed as rubbed his forehead.

"Vice-President, what about my brother?" Don asked.

"Agent Eppes, we're doing everything we can," Cooter said. "Don't worry."

"'Don't worry?'" Don asked. "My brother is out there with your loose cannon of a daughter, doing who-knows-what. Don't tell me not to worry."

"Don, take it easy," Alan said, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. "We're all a little high strung at the moment, but please remember who you're talking to."

"It's okay, Mr. Eppes," Cooter replied. "Your son is right, and I can't begin to apologize for what's happening."

"Well, I doubt very seriously that your daughter kidnapped my son," Alan replied. "Which means he's probably as much at fault for this situation as your daughter." He shrugged. "If that isn't the case, then he's safe . . . if not, well, he's going to be in serious trouble too."

"Dad, you really think Charlie would bolt with a girl he barely knows?" Don asked. "I don't buy it." He turned to Cooter. "I want in on this, sir."

"Fine by me," Cooter said. He turned as Paul entered the room. "Could you two excuse me for a moment?" The two men nodded and left as Paul walked over to Cooter.

Paul sighed. "Look, sir, I -"

"I don't want to hear it," Cooter interrupted. "I just want an honest answer. Are you sleeping with my daughter?"

"Excuse me, sir?" Paul asked.

Cooter slapped the photos on the table, and Paul looked down at them. "These were just delivered with a note, threatening to put these on the front page of tomorrow's newspapers. Now, that situation is being dealt with, but I want a straight answer."

Paul sighed; he knew those photos had been taken earlier that evening when he and Kelly hugged. It was common to have photographers hanging around the Observatory, and Kelly usually made it a point to keep her curtains shut to avoid being photographed; he couldn't believe he missed that. "Sir, first of all, I am not sleeping with Kelly," he said, keeping his voice low. "Secondly, I can't believe you're even asking me that question."

"Then what were you doing with my daughter?" Cooter asked.

"It's called a hug, sir," Paul replied. "Your daughter hugged me. That's it." He took a deep breath. "Now, if that's all, then I have to go find your daughter." He didn't wait to be dismissed; he simply walked away, leaving Cooter wondering how his life could spiral out of control so fast. He pushed that question aside as he took the photos and stuffed them in his jacket pocket and headed out of the banquet to help in the search for his daughter.

- - - -

"So, what are these things again?" Charlie asked as he stared at his frosted cup filled with black pearls, a thick straw sticking out from the liquid. He sat at a booth in the back of 'Oodles of Noodles,' sitting across from Kelly. Bowls with noodles and other entrees were spread out on their table – all half eaten, with pairs of used chopsticks laying nearby.

Kelly grinned as she sipped her drink, drinking up some of the pearls. "Tapioca pearls," she replied.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "And it's called 'Bubble Tea,'" he said slowly. Kelly nodded, and Charlie took a sip; he smacked his lips, then he smiled. "Not bad."

"Drink some of the pearls next time," Kelly said. "They're really good." She giggled uncontrollably, then she snorted and covered her mouth.

Charlie laughed and shook his head. "You are really something, you know," he said.

"And why is that?" Kelly asked, an amused smile on her lips.

"Well, you're acting . . . normal," Charlie replied. "I mean, you're smiling and talking like a normal person."

"I am not normal," Kelly said, pretending to be insulted. "I can swear in twelve different languages, thank you." She smiled slyly. "Want me to teach you?"

"No, thanks," Charlie replied, trying not to grin. "So, is there anything else I should know about you?"

"What, blowing up outhouses and swearing in other languages isn't enough?" Kelly asked, grinning. "What do you do for fun? Besides numbers, I mean."

"Well, I like basketball," Charlie replied.

"No offense, but that is a lame sport," Kelly said. "I mean, seriously, there is no point in it."

"You ever play?"

"No. Are you challenging me?"

"Maybe," Charlie said. "Next time you're in L.A., how about you and I play a little one-on-one?" He grinned. "Unless you don't think you're up to the challenge."

Kelly smiled and took a chopstick, pointing it at him. "Next time I'm in L.A. . . . you're on." She picked up a noodle and ate it. "So, what else?"

"Well, I snowboard and play video games," Charlie replied.

"Really?" Kelly asked. "You like video games?"

"Do you?" Charlie asked.

Kelly nodded. "Yeah, when I'm bored." She looked away, embarrassed, not sure if she should tell him what she was really doing during his lecture.

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked.

"Well," Kelly said slowly, "I wasn't really sick during your lecture, Charlie. I, uh … was playing a video game …." She looked down, feeling bad, yes, but feeling more confused than anything; she couldn't understand why she felt so compelled to tell him the truth.

"What were you playing?" Charlie asked, a smile playing on his lips. "And how did you manage to play a video game in the hotel?"

Kelly reached into her clutch and pulled out her Game Boy, holding it up and smiling sheepishly. "Game Boy Advance, Zelda II: The Adventure of Link."

Charlie laughed. "I actually have that game," he said. "One of my favorites."

"I actually prefer Nascar Heat," Kelly replied. "But I was in such a pd off mood that I didn't want to crash perfectly good cars."

Charlie smiled, nodding. "Well, if it's any consolation, Kelly, I'm not mad or insulted that you missed my lecture."

"You're not?" Kelly asked, surprised as she put her Game Boy away.

"Like I said," Charlie replied, "it was a very boring lecture."

"You know, you could find a way to liven it up the next time," Kelly said.

"How?"

"Well, in this case, I would have used live demonstrations," Kelly suggested seriously. She glanced up at Charlie, and she broke into a fit of giggles.

Charlie shook his head, smiling, knowing she was joking – at least, he hoped she was joking. He had to admit that being there was a lot better than being stuck at the hotel giving a lecture – even though numbers were his world. It was almost . . . liberating, in a way. It was also nice to just leave all that behind and talk about normal things like a normal person. Kelly shifted in her booth, and she suddenly hissed. Charlie looked concerned.

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked.

"It's nothing," Kelly said, her face contorting in pain. Charlie leaned over the table and saw her hands carefully covering her right knee.

"Then why are you holding your knee?" Charlie said. He got up from his side of the booth and knelt beside Kelly. "Let me see it."

"I'm fine," Kelly insisted.

"I'll be the judge of that," Charlie replied. Before Kelly could really react – and before he knew what he was actually doing - he carefully lifted Kelly's right leg onto his bent knee, propping it up, and gently pulled part of her dress up to get a better view of her knee. He stopped briefly when the hem of her dress was bunched up just above her knees, giving him a good view of her legs, and he blushed. He would have glanced over at the young woman, but he didn't want her to see his red cheeks, so he stared at her skinned knee.

Overall, it wasn't messed up that much, but the blood hadn't coagulated, and Charlie could see the scraped area. He winced, knowing the stinging was probably causing her a lot of pain. He took a deep breath, trying to remember when he was little – and what his parents used to do for him and his brother when they got skinned knees.

"You know, you don't have to do this," Kelly said, a little embarrassed as she glanced around. Thankfully, the few patrons who were there in the noodle house were not paying them any attention. That would have been bad enough if they had an audience, but having some guy – as nice and sweet … and funny ... and …. Kelly shook her thoughts back into reality as she stared down at Charlie, trying to figure out what he was going to do.

**Balladeer: Uh oh ... I think Kelly's taken a shine to that Charlie fella ...**

Charlie glanced at her for a moment, then he eyed her glass of ice water – and the unused napkin bunched nearby. He grabbed the napkin and dipped a corner of it into the water. "Now, this might sting a little," he said, right before he gently dabbed the wound.

"Son of a …," Kelly hissed as pain shot up her leg. She had to fight the urge to kick out reflexively, knowing she'd break Charlie's nose if she did.

Charlie felt her tense, and he worked as gently as he could as he went about cleaning the blood from her knee, knowing it was hurting her. He had to fight the urge to yell at her for being too stubborn to say anything when she was in pain – and he even silently berated himself for not taking initiative sooner. When he was done, he dabbed more cold water onto the wound before gently blowing on it – like his parents used to do to make it hurt less.

Kelly couldn't believe what he was doing for her, and she tilted her head as tears welled up in her eyes. She was touched by what he was doing for her, especially after everything she did to him, but what he was doing also reminded her of what he father used to do for her when she skinned her knees. She leaned back, thinking about how much she missed those times when she and her father were actually close, and she started crying softly.

Charlie looked up when he heard the soft sobs, and he was surprised to see the young woman crying; he thought he had really hurt her. "I'm sorry," he said, carefully putting her leg down. "I – I didn't mean to hurt you." He felt like bolting, but he couldn't leave her alone; he settled for going back to sitting on his side of the booth.

"You didn't hurt me," Kelly said, her voice wavering. She wiped her eyes and saw black smeared with her tears. "Great, I bet I look like a raccoon now." She sighed and leaned back, shaking her head; she chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I'm not usually like this."

"What are you usually like?" Charlie asked.

"A lot more put together," Kelly said, trying to smile but it came out as a grimace. She sighed. "Sorry, you don't want to hear about how pathetic I am."

Charlie felt really sorry for Kelly - and also very worried. She had been all happy and outgoing one minute, and now she was crying and withdrawing. Something was seriously wrong; he could feel it. He leaned over. "I don't think you're pathetic, Kelly, but there is something bothering you," he asked softly. "What's wrong?"

Kelly glanced over at Charlie and just stared at him through tear-filled eyes. She usually went on the defense when people asked 'what's wrong,' but she didn't feel that with Charlie. It was very strange … and comforting at the same time. She took a ragged breath and let it out slowly as she leaned back.

The young woman had just finished gathering her thoughts and was planning on telling Charlie what was bothering her when she felt a strong hand clamp onto her shoulder. She looked to her side – and saw one of the Secret Service agents standing next to her; he stared down at her sternly. Another agent stood near Charlie, keeping a hand on the mathematician's shoulder.

The agent holding Kelly brought his free wrist to his mouth, speaking into the small transmitter she knew he was wearing. "We have them both," he said. He looked back at Kelly, frowning at her. "You are in serious trouble." He glanced at Charlie. "Both of you." He pulled Kelly from the table, and she winced as her knee started throbbing.

"Hey, watch it," Charlie said, frowning. "She's got a hurt knee." He started to get up to help Kelly, but the agent clamped down hard, keeping him from going to help Kelly.

"If you know what's good for you," the agent said, "then you will be quiet until you are spoken to. Now, let's go." The two agents led Charlie and Kelly out of the restaurant as curious patrons watched.

(End of Chapter 3)


	4. Chapter 4

- - - - 

The Vice-Presidential limo pulled up to the curb beside the Secret Service Building on Murray Drive. Cooter glanced out the tinted window and saw a slew of photographers and reporters standing there; he knew they were waiting to see him so they could barrage him with questions and bright flashes. He sighed and looked over at Alan and Don as they sat across from him; they had been with him ever since Cooter got word that Charlie and Kelly had been located.

"Look, I know I probably don't have to say this," he said to his guests, "but until we know what's going on, I would prefer that you didn't talk to the press."

"Believe me," Alan replied, "you don't have to tell us that." He indicated Don. "Donny here knows all about keeping things under the lid." He shrugged. "He kept a virus outbreak a secret from his old man once." He turned to his son, smiling, hoping to get some sort of reaction (since he had remained unusually quiet since leaving the hotel), but Don didn't even make an indication that he was amused by his father's comment. He just sat there, lips in a thin straight line, and his fists clenched in his lap, his knuckles white.

"Good," Cooter replied as he saw his Secret Service agent coming over to open his door. "Gentlemen, hold on to your hats." The door opened, and the flashes and questions began. Cooter tried to ignore them as he got out and headed up the walk toward the building's entrance with his agents behind him and Alan and Don behind them.

"Can you confirm rumors that your daughter snuck off with the guest speaker at the dinner you were attending?"

"Sir, is it true that your daughter's protection detail has to be rotated regularly to prevent prolonged intimate relations with her agents?"

"Sir, does your daughter have any plans in the near future to have intimate relations in conjunction with the UN's nuclear location and disarmament program?"

As they walked into the building Don and Alan glanced at each other with the same expression: 'Who is this girl?' They followed the Vice-President and agents down a long hallway where they met some other agents.

"Okay, what's the situation?" Cooter asked.

"We have your daughter in one interrogation room," one agent said. "Dr. Eppes is in another. As per your orders, we haven't talked with either of them, but Dr. Eppes has become rather difficult."

"That doesn't sound like Charlie," Alan said. "He's usually very cooperative."

"Unless something happened," Don added. He turned to the agents. "What happened?" The agents turned to Cooter, and the Vice-President nodded.

"He's cleared," Cooter said. "Now, why is Dr. Eppes being difficult?"

"He claims we hurt your daughter during their apprehension, sir," the other agent replied.

"Did you?" Cooter asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Of course not, sir," the first agent said.

"Sir, with all due respect," Alan said to Cooter, "my Charles is not a liar, and he doesn't embellish things. If he believes your daughter was hurt, then he must have had good reason." He turned to the agents. "And you two might want to revise your story, because I have a feeling you're leaving something important out, and if that's the case, then I'm sure he" he nodded in Cooter's direction "is not going to be too pleased."

Cooter raised an eyebrow. He was torn between telling Alan to stand down and applauding him. He didn't want to berate either Alan or his agents, because … well, he wasn't really sure which was the right thing to do.

"We didn't leave anything out," the first agent said. "Miss Davenport had an injured knee, sure, but it wasn't anything really important."

**Balladeer: Now, I don't know Secret Service agents very well, but I do know Cooter well enough … and ya don't say to his face that any injury his daughter may have ain't important.**

Cooter suddenly knew what to do; the Vice-President in him immediately gave way to the Southern mechanic father. He reached over and grabbed both of the agents by their shirts – one in each hand – and he slammed them up against the nearest wall; his eyes were daggers as he glared at them. His back was to the Eppes men, so he missed their shocked expressions.

"Let me get this straight," Cooter said, his voice low with edge. "My daughter was injured, and instead of taking care of her injuries, you bring her into an interrogation room?"

"We were doing our job, sir," the first agent replied.

"Your job is to protect myself and my daughter!" Cooter said angrily. "That is your primary objective!"

"Uh, sir," the second agent said meekly, "we did bring in a medic to take care of her knee."

"And?" Cooter demanded.

"And Dr. Eppes wouldn't let the medic near her," the agent said. "He, uh, took the first aid kit and … tended to her injury."

Cooter glanced at Alan and Don, and he saw both of them had the slightest hints of proud smiles on their faces. He was grateful that someone had tended to his daughter – even if that person turned out to be his daughter's partner in crime. He let go of the agents, still frowning.

"And does Dr. Eppes have any injuries?" Cooter asked.

"No, sir," the first agent replied.

"Good, then you two are dismissed, and I will be informing the Director of this … procedural error." Cooter got close to their faces, dropping his voice to a mere whisper only they could hear. "And if anything happens to her as a result of your carelessness … you will be dealing with me – personally."

The agents nodded slowly before leaving, careful not to make any sudden moves that could cause the Vice President to attack them. After they left, Cooter turned back to the two remaining agents. "Mr. Eppes and Agent Eppes will be talking with Dr. Eppes while I take care of my daughter. I don't want any of us to be disturbed. Is that clear?" The agents nodded. Cooter turned to the Eppes. "Gentlemen, if you're ready."

"Oh, we're ready," Don said. "I doubt Charlie is, but that's okay. If he can go on the lam with the Vice-President's daughter, he can d well deal with the consequences." He ignored the slightly surprised expression the Vice-President was giving him.

"Let's go," Cooter said. He headed down the hallway with the Eppes men and his agents behind him. They stopped briefly outside the door leading to the first interrogation room, and Cooter glanced in the window. He saw his daughter sitting at the lone table, her back to him, so her couldn't get a good look at her. He took a deep breath and turned to his agents. "Take the Eppes to the other interrogation room. Inform me when they leave." He opened the door and walked in, shutting it behind him.

"This way," one of the agents said to the Eppes men, leading them down the hall to the next door. The agent stood aside as he opened the door, and Alan and Don walked in; the agent shut the door behind them, and Charlie looked up from where he was sitting at the table.

To say that Charlie looked tired was actually an understatement; the guy looked positively exhausted, and when he looked up at his father and brother, they could both see defeat in his eyes, like he knew he was in major trouble. He sighed. "Just say it. I'm in trouble."

"Charles," Alan said, his voice unusually calm, "trouble doesn't even begin to describe what you're in right now." Charlie shrank half a foot down into his chair. "Now, son, I'm going to be asking you some questions – and I want you to be completely honest with me. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Charlie said quietly. He glanced up at his brother, looking for any hint that his brother would come his rescue, but one look of Don's face quickly told Charlie that it would be a futile attempt. He sighed softly, waiting for the interrogation.

"First of all," Alan said as he walked to the table, leaning forward, his knuckles resting on the hard surface, "are you okay?"

Charlie looked up, surprised; he had not been expecting to hear that question – especially from his father. It took him a moment to compose his thoughts, and then he just simply nodded.

"Good," Alan said. "I'm glad you're okay; now tell me, when you left the ballroom, did you misplace anything or leave anything behind?"

Charlie blinked. "No ... I don't think so ... you think I lost something?" He started patting his pockets. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know," Alan replied. "Your MIND, maybe!" Charlie visibly jumped with the sudden change in decibels of his father's voice. "Charles Edward Eppes, what were you thinking!"

"I was thinking about apologizing to her for what I said to her on the dance floor," Charlie replied meekly.

"So, you snuck out with her?" Alan asked.

"No, actually, I caught her sneaking out," Charlie replied.

"And how did you do that?" Alan asked.

"I looked out the picture window and saw her climbing down the drainpipe," Charlie answered.

Alan just stared at his son, trying to figure out if Charlie was being sassy, but he knew Charlie was too scared for that; it didn't, however, alleviate his anger. "So, what did you do after seeing her, since you obviously failed to tell anyone – especially the Secret Service –what was going on."

"Now, before you get too mad," Charlie said, "I was actually contemplating telling them."

"But you didn't," Alan replied. "And I want to know why."

"Because I figured if I told anyone, I'd never be able to apologize."

"So, you put her life – and yours too - at risk?" Alan asked. Charlie looked down, but he nodded, knowing his decision had been really stupid. "So, how did you get to her?"

"Well, I went out the back entrance and waited for her to climb down," Charlie replied.

"Again, having enough time to tell someone about the situation and failing to inform someone," Alan said, more to Don than to Charlie. "What happened when she got down, Charlie?"

Charlie hesitated, and he could feel his cheeks getting warm. "Well, uh … when she got down … she kinda … flipped me." Alan and Don raised their eyebrows.

"She … flipped you?" Alan asked. "The Vice-President's daughter."

"Yes, the Vice-President's daughter," Charlie replied. "And, yes, I know she's smaller than me, so please don't even start with the jokes."

"Charles, I don't think you're in a position to really request anything," Alan said. "Now, after she flipped you, what happened?"

Charlie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well, I got up, then she slapped me, and -"

"She slapped you too?" Alan interrupted. He checked Charlie's face and finally noticed the slight hand imprint on his son's cheek. "Wow … looks like she has quite a little force behind her."

"She does, believe me," Charlie muttered, blushing slightly.

"Okay, so after she slapped you," Alan replied, "then what?"

"Well, we talked a little," Charlie said, "then she … um, invited me to get … something to eat with her." He blushed furiously, thinking about what she did right after that.

"What else happened?" Alan asked.

"Um … well, she … took off her shoes," Charlie replied slowly. "And … her … top."

"She flashed you?" Alan asked, incredulously.

"No!" Charlie protested, his voice squeaking as his eyes widened. "She didn't flash me! She just took out her … um …" he made gestures with his hand "things…."

Alan raised an eyebrow. "'Things?'"

"Look, all she said to me was that her dress was too big … up there, and she was given … things to … fill … it … out…."

Alan nodded. "Ah, those things." He let his breath out slowly, relieved the things Charlie was referring to weren't the things Alan was thinking about. "Okay, so after she took out her … things, then what?"

"We went to get some dinner," Charlie replied slowly.

"Ah, yes, the Chinese food place," Alan replied, nodding. "That's where the Secret Service said they found you two."

"Actually, it was a noodle house," Charlie said.

"I don't care," Alan replied. He sighed. "Charlie, do you realize how dangerous it was to do what you did? You worried us both … not only because you could have gotten hurt, but this isn't like you."

"Really?" Charlie asked, glancing at his brother. "You both thought that?"

"Yeah," Alan replied.

Charlie rolled his eyes and sighed. "I don't know whether to be gratefully surprised that Don worried about me … or insulted that he doesn't think I could actually do something just a little insane all on my own"  
"A little?" Don exploded. "A LITTLE insane? Charlie, you went to ground with the Vice President's daughter IN WASHINGTON D.C., where anyone not holding a camera somehow works for security. You don't know the city... you don't know the GIRL... you don't know how many kinds of dead you could be right now."

"You don't know how many kinds of dead you will be in about an hour," Alan added. He saw Charlie shrink back into his seat, and Alan was satisfied that he still had the ability to strike fear into his son, even if it was something he didn't like doing.

**Balladeer: Now, I like this Alan fella … he might be someone worth keepin' an eye on.**

- - - -

Cooter opened the door to the interrogation room where Kelly was being kept, and he stopped when he saw Kelly sitting at the lone table, her hands in her lap. Her head was lowered, but Cooter could still see her face had wet mascara streaks on her cheeks. Cooter was torn. The father in him wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he couldn't. She had messed up – big time – and he couldn't ignore that. He sighed and walked over, kneeling beside her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Kelly replied, not looking up.

Cooter knew she was lying, and he carefully examined her, looking her over for injuries. He eyed her bandaged knee through the tatters on her dress. As mad as he was at Charlie for sneaking out with his daughter, he was thankful that at least someone had the gumption to take care of her knee. He sighed as he looked up at his daughter, knowing it was time to talk about her actions.

"Kelly," he said, "about -"

"Look, we both know what you're going to say," Kelly interrupted. "I shouldn't have done it, it was dangerous, blah, blah, blah." She folded her arms and frowned at him. "Why don't you just record your voice and save yourself the trouble?"

"Now, see here, young lady," Cooter said, frowning. "Don't be getting an attitude with me. Now, what were you thinking sneaking out tonight?" Kelly remained silent, and Cooter sighed, frustrated. "You know, I don't know what your deal is lately, but I'm getting very tired of this. I don't know who you are anymore."

"Yeah, well, the feeling is quite mutual, I assure you," Kelly sneered. She looked up at him. "You know something, Dad? I don't care how much trouble I get into with what I did tonight. I had more fun in the short time I was with Charlie, without anyone watching my every move, than I've had with you in the past four years."

Cooter stiffened when he heard those words. Someone could have punched him in the gut, and it would have hurt less than what he heard what his daughter just said to him. Part of him wanted to scream at her for how she was acting, but the rest of him couldn't muster the energy. He simply stood up and straightened his jacket, then he turned and left the room without saying a word, closing the door behind him.

The Vice-President stood in the hallway, trying to process everything that had just happened. He couldn't understand how or why his daughter hated him, and he thought back, racking his brain, trying to figure out if it was something he did, but he couldn't think of anything that would warrant that level of hatred from his own flesh and blood.

"Mr. Vice-President?"

Cooter looked up and saw Alan, Don, and Charlie coming out of the other interrogation room. The Vice-President sighed; as much as he wanted to work on solving the problem with his daughter, he had other matters to tend to.

"Is your daughter okay?" Alan asked.

"She's fine," Cooter replied curtly. He glanced at Charlie. "How are you feeling, Dr. Eppes?" He was only asking out of formality. Truth be told, he was jealous of Charlie, jealous that Kelly had expressed how happy she had been with some … stranger whom she had known for a few hours, when she had been with her own father practically all her life – and wanted nothing to do with him.

Alan knew from Cooter's reply that something else was going on with the Vice-President and his daughter, and he would have asked, but he knew it wasn't his place. He also detected a hint of what sounded like disgust when the Vice-President mentioned his son's name, and Alan felt a sense of protectiveness welling up in him, but he didn't say anything out of respect for the man standing in front of him.

"I'm fine, sir," Charlie said, his voice full of exhaustion and defeat.

"Uh, sir," Alan spoke up, "I honestly have no idea on how this type of situation is dealt with, but I would like some input on how you plan on dealing with my son." He glanced at his son, and he would have smirked as his son shrank two inches if the situation hadn't been so serious.

"Why don't we all go somewhere and discuss this?" Cooter suggested. He glanced behind the Eppes and saw Paul cautiously approaching. Cooter frowned. "What do you want, Agent Holden?"

"I just finished talking with the Director, sir," Paul replied. "He is leaving my punishment in your hands."

"I'll deal with you when I'm done with the Eppes," Cooter said. He turned to three Eppes men. "Why don't we go upstairs and talk about this matter?"

"Um, I think I'll stay here," Charlie said. "I left my jacket in the interrogation room." He waited for his father to say something, but Alan just nodded. Charlie ducked back into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Think Charlie and your daughter will be okay left alone?" Don asked.

"If either of them leaves the area," Cooter warned. "I deal with them myself." He turned to Paul. "As it is, I'll deal with you later." Cooter walked off with his agents and the Eppes down the corridor, leaving Paul alone in the hall. He waited a few moments, then he headed to Kelly's interrogation room. He opened the door and saw Kelly sitting at the table, looking angry with her arms folded.

"Kelly?" Paul asked. Kelly looked up. "We need to talk." He walked in, shutting the door.

- - - -

Charlie grabbed his jacket from where he'd left it on the table. Normally, he wouldn't have worried about something like that, but the tuxedo was a rental. Besides, he really didn't want to be within earshot while his execution was being planned out. He sighed as he shrugged into the jacket, then he turned his head when he heard muffled shouting. He looked at the wall with the two way mirror, and he walked over; he recognized one of the voices as Kelly's, and he quickly guessed that the other voice was Paul's.

Normally, Charlie wasn't the prying type, but curiosity got the better of him, and he walked over to the light switch, flipping it to the off position. He looked back over at the mirror, and he could see into the other interrogation room. He watched as Paul paced around the table, talking loudly, looking angrily at Kelly as she sat in her chair. He watched them for a few moments, then he glanced down and saw a small panel. Feeling somewhat responsible – and a little protective - for Kelly; he pushed the speaker button so he could listen in.

"I'm sorry, Kelly," Paul replied. "You know I'm usually supportive and understanding, but there was no reason for you to sneak out tonight. It was stupid, and it was dangerous. You're almost twenty-four years old; stop acting like a little kid. I'm tired of this, and I'm this close" he held his thumb and index fingers millimeters apart "to just quitting."

"Well, no one's forcing you to babysit me," Kelly said. "So, if you really want to go, then just go."

Paul nodded. "Fine," he said. He left the room, shutting the door behind him, then Kelly lay her head on her arms and started crying softly.

Charlie felt his stomach knotting up, and he stared at the young woman for a few moments. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he headed for the door. He opened it and poked out. The corridor was empty, so Charlie made his way over to the other room and opened the door. He just stared at the young woman, feeling very sorry for her; he walked in and closed the door softly behind him.

Kelly looked up when she heard the noise, and she paused when she saw Charlie. She looked almost relieved to see him, then her expression hardened. "Go on," she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Charlie asked.

"Well, I've been yelled at by everyone else tonight," Kelly answered. "Isn't that what you're here to do?"

"No," Charlie replied. "Why would I?"

"Because I got you into trouble," Kelly said.

"Actually, I got myself into trouble," Charlie replied. He walked over and sat halfway on the table, one leg extended as his opposite hip rested on the edge. "I chose to go with you, so don't blame yourself, okay?"

"What's going to happen to you?" Kelly asked.

"Not sure," Charlie replied. "They're taking care of that right now." He cleared his throat. "Look, I don't know how much time I have, but I wanted to talk to you before I left."

"About what?" Kelly asked.

"About what a great time I had tonight."

Kelly snorted. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Hey, Asian noodles, Bubble Tea, and great conversation," Charlie said, smiling a little. "I thought it was fun."

"Oh, yeah, tonight can go down as the blue ribbon winner of great evenings," Kelly replied sarcastically. She sighed and looked up at Charlie. "I'm sorry, Charlie. About all of this."

"Don't be," Charlie replied. He cleared his throat and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a silver business card holder with the initials 'CEE' engraved on the face. Charlie flipped it open and pulled out a card; he held it out to Kelly. "Look, I know we didn't get a chance to finish our conversation before we were interrupted, but if you ever want to call me, here's my card."

Kelly carefully took the card and examined it; she smiled mirthlessly. "Well, it might be about a hundred years before I can call you," she said, "but thanks."

Charlie chuckled a little. "Well, assuming I'm still alive, you can call me at home, my office, or my cell," he said. "Anytime."

Kelly sighed, feeling tears welling up in her eyes, but she forced herself not to cry. She clutched the card in her hand as she stood up. She didn't know what else to say so she leaned over – and gently placed a kiss on his cheek; Charlie's eyebrows shot up and he stiffened. Kelly pulled back and saw Charlie's expression, then she looked worried.

"I …I'm sorry," she said.

"No, don't be," Charlie replied, regaining his composure. He had been surprised, yes, but he certainly hadn't objected; it was a sweet kiss … a really sweet kiss. He cleared his throat. "Uh, well, I better get going … don't want them to catch us together." He got up from the table and slowly headed for the door; he opened the door and stopped, turning back to Kelly, smiling a little. "Take care, Bubbles." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Charlie smiled a bit more, then he turned around – and came face to face with Cooter, his two Agents, Alan, and Don. The mathematician froze in his spot, his smile fading. "Uh … hi?" he asked softly.

"Dr. Eppes, I've had a really bad evening," Cooter said, "so I'm going to ignore the fact that you were with my daughter after you two were separated by my men."

"Sir, with all due respect," Charlie said, "I was just saying goodbye to her."

"I don't want to hear it," Cooter replied. "Now, I've talked with your father and my men. Normally, what happened this evening could be grounds for being brought up on federal charges. However, I'm going to be lenient, since you have an excellent track record with the FBI and your family will be returning to Los Angeles tomorrow." He got close to Charlie. "But let me give you a piece of advice, Dr. Eppes: stay away from my daughter." He brushed past Charlie and went into Kelly's interrogation room with his men close behind; Charlie looked back at his father and brother.

"Charlie, you are so lucky," Alan said. "He was planning on throwing you in federal prison. Thankfully, I was able to talk him out of doing that."

"Oh, and by the way," Don said, reaching over and rubbing Charlie's cheek with his thumb; he showed his younger brother the smear of dusky rose lipstick on his finger. "Not really your shade."

"I didn't know she was going to kiss me," Charlie protested, even though he couldn't help but smile a little.

Alan sighed and closed his eyes, not sure if he should be furious that Charlie was thinking about a girl during a serious federal matter … or relieved that Charlie was thinking about a girl – period. "Charlie, there's a car waiting to take us back to the hotel. We're all tired, and we have a flight to catch tomorrow morning."

"Um … before we leave, can I ask you a favor?" Charlie asked.

"What, you want another kiss?" Don asked wryly.

"I wanted to see if it would be possible to have Kelly come out to L.A. for a while," Charlie replied, ignoring his brother's remark. Alan and Don just stared at him. "What?"

"Charlie, have you lost it?" Don asked. "After everything that's happened, you want to invite her to come to our home?"

"As I recall, Don," Charlie said, "it's my home." He turned to his father. "Dad, do you think you could talk to the Vice-President?"

"First of all," Alan replied, "do not talk to your brother in that tone of voice. Second, did you not hear what the Vice-President told you to do? I think the last thing he'd want is to have his daughter on the other side of the country with her partner in crime. Third, why would you want her to come out in the first place? And, finally, if you're so keen on this idea, why don't you talk with him yourself?"

"Sorry," Charlie said to his brother, then he looked back at his father. "Yes, I heard what her father said, I want her to come out, because I think it might be good for her, and I can't talk to him, because he was looking at me like he wants to kill me." He sighed. "Dad, I know it sounds weird, but when Kelly and I were alone in the noodle house, it was like she was a different person. She was happy and smiling and laughing … she seemed to be enjoying herself."

"Did she say why?" Don asked.

"All she said was that it was nice not to be under a microscope," Charlie replied.

"Well, it can't be easy living a high profile life," Alan said. "But that doesn't mean it'll be any easier for her in L.A.; it could be worse, actually."

Charlie looked uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from side to side. "I don't think it was being in the actual spotlight that was bothering her …."

"Then what do you think it is?" Alan asked.

"I think the problem is … her father," Charlie replied slowly.

"Charlie, that's a pretty serious assumption," Alan said.

"Believe me, you don't have to tell me that," Charlie replied, "but I just got this feeling." He sighed. "Dad, please?"

Alan stared at his son, debating in his mind what to do. On one hand, Alan knew that going to Cooter and asking him to practically hand over his daughter to complete strangers, especially with what happened that evening, was not really the most reasonable idea; if their positions were reversed, then Alan would have issues with letting either of his sons go off. Still, on the other hand, Charlie was asking him for help, and Alan sighed.

"I will do what I can, Charlie," Alan replied, "but I'm not making any promises." Charlie nodded, and then the door to the interrogation room opened. Cooter walked out with Kelly and his agents behind him. Kelly looked a little more put together – the black streaks were gone from her face – but she still looked tired and defeated. She glanced over at Alan and Don, and she shrank a little bit, lowering her gaze.

"Well, gentlemen," Cooter said, "if there's nothing else, then I'd like to get my daughter and myself back to our home."

"Uh, actually, sir," Alan spoke up, "I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time?"

Cooter studied the other man, then he nodded. He turned to one of his agents. "Take my daughter to the limo," he said. The agent nodded and escorted Kelly down the corridor. "What is it, Mr. Eppes?"

Alan turned to his sons. "Guys, go wait in the car for me," he said. Don and Charlie nodded and left their father with the Vice-President as they headed down the hall.

"Don, are you mad at me?" Charlie asked after a few moments of silence.

Don raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Uh," he said slowly, "not really mad, Charlie. I'm not thrilled by what you did tonight; it was dangerous and stupid, but I'm not mad." He shrugged. "To be honest, I do understand a little why you did it. She is kinda cute."

Charlie nodded, then he realized what his brother had said. He jerked his head over, looking incredulous. "You think I snuck off with her because I like her?"

"Charlie, it wouldn't be the first time a guy did something stupid because of a girl," Don replied.

"I don't like her!" Charlie protested, his cheeks growing warm. He was glad Don wasn't mad at him, but he hated it when Don teased him. "I mean, she's nice and everything, but that's it!"

"Uh huh," Don replied, smiling. "Sure." The two approached the front, and Don took a deep breath, his smile fading. "Okay, Charlie, it's time to get your vogue on." Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Just ignore them." He stopped and turned his brother to him, putting his hands on his shoulders, crouching down to his brother's eye level. "Now, once they see you, they're going to be bombarding you with questions. No matter what they ask – no matter how awful or disgusting it sounds - do not say anything, okay?" Charlie nodded. "Also, keep your head down, keep moving, and don't leave my side." Charlie nodded again, and Don stood tall, putting an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Here we go." Charlie looked at his feet as Don opened the door – and they were immediately bombarded with flashes and questions.

"Dr. Eppes, can you tell us what you were doing with the Vice-President's daughter?"

"Was it her idea to sneak out or yours?"

"Are you and Miss Davenport secretly involved?"

The crowd of reporters converged on the two men, and Charlie began to panic, but Don kept his grip on his younger brother as he pushed and shoved his way through the melee to the waiting car. Don opened the car door and all but shoved Charlie in, then he got in and shut the door behind him. The two brothers just sat there, catching their breaths, listening to the reporters' muffled voices; thankfully the windows were tinted, so none of the press could see in, giving the two brothers some privacy.

"They're like piranhas," Charlie said, frowning a little as he settled into his seat. He had been around the press before, and he had been the focus before … but he had never been the target of malice.

Don agreed; he felt anger stirring in his gut. "Yeah, well, you were caught with the Vice-President's daughter," he said. "They're going to be eating this up for days."

"What about when we get back home?" Charlie asked.

"Oh, I have no doubt that we'll be getting the same treatment back home," Don replied. "We'll deal with it then."

Charlie felt horrible. "Don, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"It's okay," Don replied. "We'll deal with this." The car door suddenly opened, and both men tensed, but they relaxed when they saw Alan all but jump into the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Vultures!" he shouted at the tinted window. He turned to his sons. "Can you believe them?"

"So, what did he say?" Don asked as the car pulled away.

"Well, at first he looked at me like I had lost it," Alan replied, "and part of me thought he was right; can't blame me."

"But?" Charlie asked.

"But I did some negotiating," Alan replied. "Explained to him that his daughter might be in need of a small vacation away from the politics and the press."

"And?" Don asked.

"And he said yes," Alan answered.

"Really?" Charlie asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, as it turns out," Alan said, "he's going to China for a few days to do some PR work. He originally had planned on Miss Davenport coming with him, but he feels that she might be better off staying in the States."

"He thinks she might cause an international incident?" Don asked.

"To say the least," Alan replied. "He wouldn't say much, but I did hear him muttering about hijacking a rikyak." He turned to Charlie, and saw his younger son trying not to look too excited. "Now, Charlie, just because you got your wish doesn't mean you're off the hook."

"I know," Charlie replied.

"We'll discuss housing arrangements when we get home," Alan said. He leaned forward, his face becoming deadly serious. "Until then, we're going to be going over your actions this evening … and I have quite a few things to say."

Charlie's smile faded as his stomach turned to ice; he slowly leaned back in the seat, bracing himself for the lecture of the century.

(End of Chapter 4)


	5. Chapter 5

- - - - 

It was nearly one in the morning, and Cooter was about to fall over, but he had some business to attend to as he sat behind his desk in his office. They had arrived back at the Naval Observatory a half hour ago, and Kelly had gone to bed without saying a word to him, which – for the time being – Cooter was fine with. He leaned back in his chair, tapping an expensive pen on the polished wood when there was a knock on his door.

"Yes?" Cooter asked. The door opened, and an agent poked his head in.

"Sir, Agent Holden's here," the agent said.

"Send him in," Cooter said. The agent nodded and opened the door; Paul walked in, looked tired and angry as he shut the door. He stood near the door, and he and Cooter stared at each other.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Cooter asked.

"I already said my peace, sir," Paul replied. "Why don't you just tell me I'm fired and be done with it?"

"I'm very tempted to, Agent," Cooter said. "You're one of the poorest agents I have ever known. You keep losing my daughter, and to top it off, you crossed a line by hugging her."

"It was a simple hug," Paul said.

"I don't care!" Cooter shouted. "Because of what you did, I had to resort to digging up dirt on the reporter who took those photographs in order to keep them off the front page!" When Cooter took the oath he had vowed never to resort to blackmailing anyone to save face; he knew what he had done that night was to protect his daughter's reputation, but it didn't mean he felt horrible for having that blood on his hands.

"You know, I am sick of this," Paul replied. "Ever since I started this detail, I have been caught between you and your daughter, and I have had it!"

"Watch it, Agent," Cooter said. "You're walking on very thin ice."

"I don't care anymore," Paul replied. "I became a Secret Service agent to protect people, not to be a mediator between a spoiled brat and a Vice-President who seems more concerned about what people think of him than he his own daughter." He walked over to Cooter's desk, leaned on his fists on the desk, and got in Cooter's face. "You want to fire me, then just do it."

Cooter slowly got to his feet, keeping his eyes locked with Paul's. "Son, if we were back in Hazzard, you'd be on the receiving end of my fist."

"If it makes you feel better," Paul replied, "do it."

**Balladeer: Now, ya think he'd know better than to challenge a Davenport ….**

Cooter stared at the Agent, then swiftly punched him across the face. Paul staggered back, clutching his jaw, then just watched the politician. After a few moments the agent turned to leave.

"I'm not done with you," Cooter said. Paul slowly turned around, and Cooter rubbed his knuckles as he sat down in his chair. "I'm going to be frank with you, Agent. You're the only member of the Secret Service who Kelly really tolerates."

"So?" Paul asked.

"You know I'm going to China in a few days," Cooter replied. "Kelly was supposed to come with me, but after tonight I don't want her coming."

"Don't blame you there," Paul muttered. "So, you want me to keep an eye on her here?"

"No," Cooter replied. "I want you to keep an eye on her in Los Angeles."

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Los Angeles?"

**Balladeer: Okay, now even I wasn't expectin' that.**

"She'll be spending a week with the Eppes," Cooter answered. He saw Paul's confused expression. "I know what you're thinking, but I believe getting out of D.C. for awhile would be good for her; you said she did well in Hazzard, despite the … problems. Besides, she and Dr. Eppes seemed to have gotten along, despite them sneaking off."

"You don't think those two will do anything to further complicate matters?" Paul asked. He narrowed his eyes. "Or maybe she'll hug me again."

Cooter ignored that last remark. "If you think I have to worry about my daughter getting involved with Dr. Eppes, then no. He's not her type."

Paul sighed, knowing he was probably going to regret his decision. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to be in charge of all security measures," Cooter answered. "Everything from planning and surveying, to implementing appropriate actions. I also want you to stay with my daughter at all times while she's there. And she's not allowed to do any driving. I don't want to hear about her getting arrested for hotwiring a car."

Paul nodded. As mad as he was at both Cooter and Kelly, truth be told, he did care about them, especially Kelly, and he had been really hurt by how Kelly had treated him earlier that night. "Yes, sir," he said. "Anything else?"

"Keep me informed of everything," Cooter answered. "And keep her safe. You're dismissed." Paul turned and left the office, and Cooter ran a tired hand over his face, feeling what little energy he had left draining. He sighed as he headed out of the office; his agent followed him as he walked up the stairs. He paused in front of Kelly's bedroom and reached for the doorknob, but he saw no light coming out from under the door, so he stopped himself from opening the door, not wanting to disturb her, and honestly not up to another argument tonight. He slowly walked to his own room, wrapped in feelings of anger, hurt, disappointment, and failure.

**Balladeer: Breaks my heart to see Cooter like that … and not even a hint of what's goin' on between him and Kelly.**

- - - -

_Los Angeles  
Thirty-one hours later…_

Charlie took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he snuggled under his covers, hugging his pillow close to him. He was glad to be back in his own home, sleeping in his own bed, away from the prying eyes and reporters. He wondered how anyone could live day in and day out being hounded and in the spotlight. He was glad he was just a mathematician; not much fame came with that … at least, not outside the math world, and that was enough for him.

The young man rolled over onto his back and stretched as his thoughts drifted back to Kelly. He rubbed his cheek where she had kissed him, and a smile spread across his cheek. He had been kissed by a couple girls before, but when Kelly had kissed him he felt something … different. The closest thing he could compare it to was in the stories his mom used to read him when he was little, when the knights in shining armor rescued the princesses from the fire-breathing dragons, and then the princesses gave their rescuers kisses.

Charlie could see Kelly as a princess of sort, since she was famous and beautiful, and he knew she probably had a lot of guys interested in her, but he couldn't see himself as any kind of hero, much less a knight in shining armor. He sighed and pushed her from his mind as he rolled over and buried himself under the sheets, trying to go back to sleep; he had a lot to do that day, even with it being his day off, but for at least another couple of hours he wanted to sleep.

Too bad that wasn't going to happen.

Charlie's bedroom door suddenly flew open, and Alan poked his head in. "Charlie, wake up," he said loudly.

"Mmph," Charlie mumbled, putting a pillow over his head and trying to burrow further under the covers. "Dad, it's my day off!"

"I know, but you have guests," Alan replied.

"I told Larry and Amita I'd meet them later," Charlie grumbled. "Tell them to go away."

Alan raised an eyebrow. He knew Charlie and Amita had drifted apart and mutually agreed to be friends after their first date … well, bombed, and Alan and Don had talked the previous night about Don's theory on how Charlie really felt about Kelly, but it still surprised Alan. Still, he kept his mouth shut on the subject.

"It's not Larry and Amita," Alan replied. "It's the Secret Service."

Charlie's eyes suddenly flew open, and he bolted out of bed, taking care not to get tangled in the sheet. "They're here already?" he asked. "She's here!"

Alan couldn't help but grin at seeing his son with his wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair mussed and slightly tangled – and the look of panic on his face. "No, it's just them," he said. "A whole lovely team of them is making their rounds around the house and the property."

"Why?" Charlie asked. "Our house is safe."

"It may be, but they have procedures to follow," Alan replied. "Now, get dressed and get downstairs. Kim wants to talk to you."

"Kim's here?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" Alan asked.

Charlie shrugged. He hadn't talked with Kim since the counterfeiting case – before Charlie found out that Don had planned on asking her to marry him. He wasn't sure if their father knew about that, but Charlie wasn't going to bring it up. "Just been a while since we've talked."

"Well, don't keep her waiting," Alan replied. "They have a lot of work to do; you too."

"Work?" Charlie asked as he walked over to his dresser and began pulling out clothes to wear.

"Yes, work," Alan answered. "You have to get the guest room ready, go shopping, clean the house … work."

"Whoa, you're not going to help me?" Charlie asked.

"Charlie, my boy," Alan said, "I already did my part by getting the Vice-President to agree to let his daughter stay here. You're in charge of the rest." He smiled and left, closing the door behind him.

Charlie stood, dumbfounded for a few moments before getting dressed. He habitually made his bed and combed out his hair before heading downstairs. He stopped short when he saw a group of three agents – including Kim - standing in the living room, talking. Kim looked up and smiled at Charlie.

"Hey, Charlie," she said as she walked over. "Sorry to come over so early, but we got a lot of stuff to do."

"It's okay," Charlie replied, trying not to show how annoyed he was about not being able to sleep in. "So, what exactly are you guys doing?"

"Just checking everything out," Kim replied. "Any hazards, hot spots, that sort of thing. What I need from you is a list of everyone you know who comes and goes here so we can run background checks." Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Charlie, it's policy, you know that."

"That's fine," Charlie replied. "I'll get started on that."

"Thanks," Kim said. "Well, I have to get back to work. See you later." She headed back over to her men, and Charlie sighed before heading to the kitchen. Before he did anything, he wanted a cup of coffee.

- - - -

_Two Days Later …_

Kelly leaned back in her seat in the limo, folding her arms and sighing. She was tired and grungy from the six-hour flight, even if it had been in Air Force Two, but she was more hurt than anything. An hour outside of LAX Cooter had talked to Kelly privately about what he expected of her while she was with the Eppes, laying down his rules. That wasn't really the problem; Kelly was used to that. What she hadn't expected was her father not even bothering to get off the plane to see her to her destination. He said his goodbye to her from his office, then Paul escorted off the plane to the limo waiting; she was so angry and hurt that she didn't even acknowledge the slew of reporters shooting photos and questions at her.

Paul sat across from her in the limo and watched her; he saw a single tear slide down her cheek, and he felt so p----d off at Cooter for not at least seeing his own daughter safely. He sighed and moved over to sit beside her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kelly replied. "Just a little tired."

Paul put an arm around Kelly's shoulders and she leaned into him, closing her eyes. He let her rest until the limo pulled up beside the curb in front of the Eppes' house, then he gently nudged her. "We're here."

Kelly opened her eyes and glanced out the tinted window. She groaned when she saw reporters standing out there, poised with photographers, waiting for her to get out before they pounced on her. "You know, I'm all for the free press," she said, "but sometimes these guys can be such a--es."

Paul nodded in agreement. "Ready?" he asked.

"I guess," Kelly replied. "What about my stuff?"

"Jared will get your things," Paul answered. Jared was the driver, and he waved from his place behind the steering wheel.

Kelly waved back, then she took a deep breath. "Let's do this," she said. Paul got out on the side of the limo farthest from the curb, then he closed the door and walked over to the other side.

Inside, the Eppes watched through parted curtains from the living room as Paul opened the door and helped Kelly out, then he escorted her up the sidewalk as the reporters kept their distance, but still fired questions at her; Paul shielded her as they hurried toward the house. They stepped away from the window, and Don and Charlie stood nearby while Alan went to open the door.

"Come on in," he said. Paul and Kelly walked in, and Alan shut the door behind them. "Vultures."

"Excuse me?" Kelly asked.

"The press," Alan answered.

"Oh," Kelly replied. "I usually call them jacka--es."

"Colorful word choice," Don said wryly. Kelly shrugged, and she glanced around the house, feeling a little at ease and out of place at the same time.

"Well," Alan spoke up, "we're so glad you could join us, Miss Davenport."

Kelly nodded. "Thanks for having me," she replied, even though she really didn't want to be there. Only one week, she said to herself. Only one week. She glanced at Charlie and nodded. "Hi, Charlie." Charlie smiled and ducked his head slightly as he waved, but he didn't say anything.

Alan glanced at Charlie and knew he wasn't going to be a good host if he didn't talk – and Alan knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He sighed, wanting to kick Charlie to snap him out of his stupor, but he didn't want to embarrass him in front of the girl he had a crush on. He smiled politely at Kelly.

"How about we give you a tour of the house?" he suggested.

"Can I ask a question first?" Kelly asked.

"Sure," Alan answered, just as someone knocked on the door. He went to answer it, and saw Jared standing on the porch, holding two black leather luggage bags, one black computer case, and a black leather backpack. He set them down near the front porch.

"Anything else you need from me?" Jared asked.

"No, thanks, Jared," Paul answered. Jared nodded and headed back out the front door, shutting it behind him.

"So, what's your question, Miss Davenport?" Alan asked.

"First, please call me Kelly," the young woman said. "I hate Miss … very annoying."

"We'll keep that in mind, Miss Davenport," Don replied. Alan shot him a look. "Kelly."

Kelly narrowed her eyes briefly at Don before turning back to Alan. "Do you all really live together?" she asked.

"No, Donny has in his own place," Alan said.

"But I'll be staying here for the week," Don replied, looking at Kelly with an expression in his eyes that clearly told her she better watch herself.

"Why don't we start the tour?" Alan quickly suggested when he saw the look Don was giving their guest. He understood Don's position, but he did not want to witness a fight between his son and the young woman; he wouldn't know who to root for. He nodded to the room left of the front door. "This is our parlor. We keep some artsy stuff in there, the piano …. Over here …" he nodded to the room on the other side of the front door "is our den. Got the couch, fireplace, television …."

"Do you ever use it?" Kelly asked.

"Oh, yeah, we watch TV all the time," Alan replied.

"I mean the fireplace," Kelly said. "I mean, it is California …."

"Believe it or not, it can get cold enough for a fire in the winter," Alan said, smiling a little. Kelly nodded, but she didn't even crack the tiniest semblance of a grin. Alan knew she was probably not too happy to be there, so he continued his tour, heading toward the dining room with everyone behind him. "In here is the dining room."

"Cool," Kelly said, trying not to appear interested.

"And here is the kitchen," Alan said as everyone walked into the kitchen.

"Nice," Kelly replied. She sniffed the air, smelling something familiar. "Do I smell crawfish?"

"Yeah, your father told me at the banquet that crawfish chowder was one of your favorite dishes," Alan replied. "We decided to have it tonight to make you feel a little more at home. There's also Ginger Ale in the fridge, and you are more than welcome to help yourself to anything here."

Kelly started smiling gratefully, but she caught herself. She wasn't going to let her guard down just yet. She gave a little force smile and nodded. "Thank you," she said.

Alan saw that flicker of a smile, and he knew what she was doing; he had two kids of his own, and he knew when someone was hiding something from him. He would have grinned at how cute it was, but he knew it was not the best time. He nodded at the staircase located at the far side of the kitchen. "Those stairs lead down to the basement." The group headed out of the kitchen, and Alan pointed to the doors on the far side of the den. "Those lead to the backyard. We have a koi pond there; Charlie's idea, actually. In fact, he named all the fish himself after math theorists."

"Dad," Charlie spoke up, blushing a little. "I don't think she really wants to hear about that."

"I'm sure you can fill her in later," Alan replied. The group followed Alan back to the front door, where everyone started gathering up her luggage; while Paul grabbed her luggage Kelly quickly grabbed her backpack and computer case before Charlie and Don could get them.

"These I really prefer to carry myself," she said. "Personal stuff." She smiled at them a little.

"And upstairs we go," Alan replied. They group headed up the stairs. "Alright, it's a little crowded up here, so bear with me." He nodded to the door on the left. "This is my bedroom. If you need anything, don't hesitate to knock, okay?" Kelly nodded. "Now, this door right here" he nodded to the door across the hall from the stairs "leads to the solarium. Charlie works there sometimes, but it's always open if you're interested. It's really nice in the evening when the sun is setting, and it really makes the room look beautiful." He pointed to the door next to the stairs. "That's the guest room. Used to be Donny's room." He turned to Paul. "I was told you're staying there." He pointed to a door farther down the hall. "Kelly, that's your room. You have a door that connects to the bathroom, which is right there." He nodded at the door at the end of the hall. "It also connects to Charlie's room, which is right there." He pointed to the door across from the room where Kelly would be staying, then he looked at Kelly. "Anything you want to ask or need?"

"Just a shower and a nap," Kelly replied. "A six hour plane ride, and I'm riper than a Georgia peach past the harvest season." She saw the Eppes staring at her. "Sorry, Southern euphemism. I'll stop it."

"If that's what you feel comfortable with," Alan said, "then that's fine. As for the shower and nap …." He smiled warmly. "We'll let you have some time to yourself to get settled. Dinner will be ready in about two hours." Kelly nodded, and Alan herded his boys back down the stairs, leaving Kelly and Paul by themselves.

"Well, let's see what my room looks like," Kelly said. Clutching her bags she headed down the hall to her bedroom door; Paul followed with the luggage. Kelly grabbed the doorknob. "Let's get this over with." She opened the door and looked inside.

The room, while nowhere near as big as her room in D.C., was still fairly large. The walls and floors matched the rest of the house – polished wooden floors and dark cream walls. Pushed against the right wall was a wood dresser. The top was free of clutter, save for a bouquet of purple mistine orchids mixed with white-hearted lavender astras and white mini carnations in a round frosted purple glass vase. Kelly's mouth opened slightly; orchids were her favorite flowers. _How did they know?_ she thought to herself. She walked over and fingered the soft petals, then she looked around the rest of the room. On the left side of the dresser was a door leading to what Kelly assumed was the closet. A wooden desk was pushed against the wall that faced the front of the house, right under the only window in the room; burgundy curtains shielded the room from the outside world. A matching bookshelf stood to the right of the desk, and Kelly could see an assortment of books on the shelves, everything from an old family Bible and some Shakespeare and poetry books to some old high school yearbooks.

Kelly sighed as she faced the wall opposite the dresser. A cherry wood Art Deco bed in a style that matched the desk and the dresser was pushed against the opposite wall, flanked by matching nightstands. The bed had elegant ivory sheets and pillows with a burgundy comforter and some matching throw pillows; a burgundy lamp sat on each nightstand. Kelly actually liked the color combination, but the most striking thing was the small white whicker basket in the middle of the bed, chock-full of an assortment of different things. Kelly raised an eyebrow, but she walked over and put her things on the bed, then sat down and put the basket into her lap. She plucked a small white envelope that was tucked into the plethora of goodies and opened it, pulling out a hand-written note.

"What's it say?" Paul asked.

"'Dear Miss Davenport,'" Kelly read. "'We all know our first meeting didn't go as well as we would have liked, but we are honored to have you as our guest for the week. We hope this basket will make you feel more comfortable here. Sincerely, Alan, Don, and Charlie Eppes.'" She put the note aside and dove into the basket, pulling out two Ty bears – a periwinkle Georgia bear and a bright orange California bear. "Cute. Jeffery will have some company." She put them down and pulled out a set of ivory chopsticks and three packets of Ramen noodles, all chicken flavored; she laughed out loud, then caught herself as she put them down next to the bears. Kelly noticed the last items in the basket – royal blue bath items: shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, shower poof, bath salts, and body lotion; the young woman detected a strong but not overly powerful scent of eucalyptus. "Wow."

"Yeah, they're cruel heartless monsters," Paul said, smiling. "Crawfish chowder, flowers, bears, bath stuff … want me to rough them up a bit?"

"Why don't you go get settled while I take a shower?" Kelly suggested, smiling back.

"I will do that," Paul said, putting down one of the bags. "If you need me, holler." He left Kelly's room, shutting the door behind him. Kelly shook her head, chuckling a little, then glanced at the door beside the nightstand. She knew it was the door to the bathroom, and she grabbed her bath stuff. She may not have wanted to be there – but she wasn't going to let perfectly good bath items go to waste.

**Balladeer: That's Kelly for ya … always makin' the most of the situation.**

(End of Chapter 5)


	6. Chapter 6

- - - - 

Alan and Don sat in their usual places at the dinner table, waiting. They stared at the meal before them - five bowls of crawfish chowder, five glasses, and a plate of saltines. While Alan kept his hands in his lap, Don gently tapped his spoon impatiently. A few moments passed, then Charlie came into the dining room, taking his seat at the table.

"Well?" Don asked.

"She's not hungry," Charlie replied.

"What?" Don asked. "You're telling me that after a six hour plane ride across the country, she's not hungry?"

"That's what she said," Charlie replied.

Don snorted. "Unbelievable." He shook his head. "After everything we did to make her feel comfortable, she still acts like a selfish brat."

"Actually, I expected this, Don," Alan said. "She's not being a selfish brat. She's just testing us."

"Why in the word would she be testing us?" Don asked.

"Well, she's a new place," Alan said as he started eating. He grabbed some crackers and crumbled them into his chowder, stirring them in. "She just wants to see what she can get away with."

"I say haul her down here and make her eat dinner," Don replied. "Let her know she can't do this."

"And that's why I won't be doing that," Alan said. He saw the confused look on his both of his sons' faces. "What? I did the same thing with you two when you pulled the same stunt."

"We did not," Charlie spoke up.

"I have to correct you, my boy," Alan said. "Remember when we all planned to go on the camping trip when you were six and you" he looked at Don "were almost fourteen? Remember what happened on the day of the trip?"

"Yeah, the engine conked out on us before we left, and the trip was cancelled," Don answered.

"And you and Charlie were so mad at your mother and me for not being able to get the car fixed that you two decided to spend the entire day in your rooms," Alan replied. "You wouldn't even come down for meals. Your mother and I left you two alone to pout, and you finally came down when you got hungry enough." He smiled. "Trust me, boys. She'll come down eventually."

Charlie and Don glanced at each other, and Don shrugged slightly before starting on his own soup. Charlie watched his father and brother eat for a few moments, then he glanced at the ceiling; he sighed softly, then started eating.

- - - -

It was almost two in the morning, and the house was completely dark and still as the door to Kelly's bedroom slowly creaked open. The young woman poked her head out and looked around, her eyes adjusting to the dark. Nothing. Smiling, she tiptoed down the hallway, her bare feet padding softly as she made her way down the hall, and she grabbed the banister for support as she slowly headed downstairs.

The young woman headed into the den and froze when she saw Don on the couch, but she heard him snoring softly, so she hurried past him through the dining room and into the kitchen. She made her way carefully over to the fridge and opened the door, reflexively blinking at the bright light. She rubbed her eyes until they were used to the light, then she started rummaging around, looking for something to eat. Suddenly, the lights came on, and Kelly whirled around; she froze when she saw Don standing just inside the kitchen, dressed in black sweatpants and a dark blue t-shirt, his hand on the light switch.

"Looking for something in particular?" he asked.

"Well, your father said I could help myself," Kelly replied. "That's what I'm doing." She frowned. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," Don answered. "Just curious." He tilted his head, then he rubbed his eyes. "I think I'm hallucinating. I could have sworn you were wearing an orange outfit." Kelly frowned as she looked down at her clothes, then she smiled and chuckled. "What's so funny?"

Kelly closed the door. "I am," she replied. "Sort of." She saw Don's confused expression, and she indicated her clothes – a royal blue t-shirt and matching pajama pants. There was a large '00' printed on the shirt and little "00"s scattered on the pants, both in bright white. After a few moments she turned around – and Don's eyebrows nearly shot off his head. The back of her outfit – both the shirt and pants - was a bright orange, with a large "01" on the shirt and little "01"s scattered on the pants, also white in color.

"What the …?" Don asked.

"I designed it myself," Kelly replied.

"Why?" Don asked.

"I like both colors," Kelly answered. "And 00 and 01 are two of my favorite numbers; they're the numbers of two of my favorite cars."

"Race cars?" Don asked.

"Something like that," Kelly replied. Her stomach growled loudly, and she blushed.

In spite of everything, Don smiled. "Grab a stool." While Kelly took a seat on one of the stools at the island in the middle of the kitchen Don went to the fridge and opened the door, rummaging around. He pulled out a small Tupperware container and a bottle of ginger ale. "In the mood for some crawfish chowder and ginger ale?"

"Sure," Kelly replied. She watched as Don took a bowl and spoon from the cabinets and poured some leftover chowder into the bowl, then popped the bowl into the microwave to heat it up. While the microwave was taking care of the chowder he took a clean glass from the cabinet and poured her some ginger ale. He handed her the glass just as the microwave buzzed. Don removed the bowl, brought it and the spoon over, and set them in front of Kelly. The young woman smiled, then she glanced at her bowl and frowned; there wasn't much chowder. She looked up at Don, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't get to complain," he said. "You weren't here when it was served – and it was good."

"What's going on in here?" Don and Kelly looked over and saw Paul standing in the kitchen entrance in his night clothes, gun in hand, eyeing the situation cautiously.

"Did we wake you?" Kelly asked.

"No, the surveillance team did," Paul replied. "They said they saw a light coming from the kitchen." Kelly rolled her eyes; she had forgotten that there was a team of five agents watching the house from different points around the property. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just hungry," Kelly replied. She held up her bowl. "Want the last spoonful of chowder?"

"Actually, I had a bowl earlier, but thanks," Paul replied, trying not to smile at her sarcasm. "I'm going back to bed." He brought his wrist up to his mouth, and Kelly could see the radio wristband he wore at night. "Coast is clear, guys. Liberty was just getting a midnight snack. I repeat, Liberty is just fine." He nodded and left the kitchen.

"Okay, that was weird, and I do that stuff for a living," Don said as Kelly started eating what little chowder she had in her bowl.

"Well, they want to make sure the Vice-President's daughter doesn't go anywhere without them knowing about it," Kelly replied with a slightly bitter tone. She sighed and shook her head. "Sorry, Agent Eppes."

"Call me Don," Don replied. "And it's okay." He smelled the slight aroma of eucalyptus wafting around Kelly, and he smiled. "I take it you liked the stuff we got you?"

"Yeah, it was very thoughtful," Kelly said. "Thank you."

"Well, Charlie originally wanted to get you raspberry scented stuff," Don replied. "But it was all pink, and you don't strike me as a girl who likes pink, so we decided on the blue stuff."

"Well, it was very relaxing," Kelly said. "And who chose the flowers?"

"That was all Charlie's idea," Don answered. "He thought roses were too clichéd."

"Well, he must be a hell of a mind reader," Kelly replied before sipping her ginger ale. "Orchids are my favorite flower."

Don grinned to himself as he took Kelly's empty bowl and turned to put it in the sink, feeling pride for his brother welling up inside him. Score one for Charlie, he thought. He rinsed the bowl out and put it on the rack, then returned to the island, taking the other stool. "Feel better?"

Kelly nodded. It hadn't been enough to fill her up, but it took away the hunger pains and rumble in her stomach. "That was good chowder," she replied, a hint of sadness in her voice.

Don heard the subtle change in her voice, and he furrowed his eyebrows, confused, but he thought best not to ask about it. "Yeah, it was really good," he said. He noticed her starting to get a little droopy-eyed. "Hey, uh, it's pretty late. Why don't we try to get some rest?"

"It's after five in D.C.," Kelly replied numbly; she yawned. "And I think my dad is actually just now going to sleep in China." She swayed slightly, and Don put a hand on her shoulder to steady her; he didn't want her to start her visit with a concussion if she fell off the stool.

"Come on, kiddo," he said. Bedtime."

"'kay," she said softly before yawning again. She moved sleepily with Don guiding her out of the kitchen, through the house, and up the stairs to her bedroom. He opened the door and guided her in, but he didn't go in her room; he watched as she trudged over to her bed and all but collapsed onto it, not even bothering to cover herself. Don was almost tempted to go in and cover her up, but he knew he hadn't reached that point with her. He closed the door softly, then he allowed himself a small smile as he quietly headed back downstairs to get some rest.

**Balladeer: Well, it's nice to know that Agent Eppes ain't mad at Kelly anymore … in fact, seems that he's kinda takin' a shine to her. Not like Charlie is, mind you, but there's still somethin' there.**

- - - -

The sun shone, and the grandfather clock in the living room struck eight as the front door opened and Alan walked in, dressed for the day, clutching the morning paper, and grumbling a few choice words about what he thought of the press. He headed over to the dining room table, where Don and Charlie were both eating breakfast - and Charlie was doing some work on a seminar he had planned for later that day.

"Press still out there?" Don asked around a mouthful of toast as Alan sat down.

"Vultures," Alan grumbled as he started reading the paper. Charlie and Don glanced at each other and smiled.

"So, how long do you think we should wait before waking Kelly up?" Charlie asked as he went back to his work.

"Might want to let her sleep in a little," Don said. "Jet lag and everything."

"Actually, Don, if that was true, then she should be up by now," Charlie replied. "When a person travels from east to west, in this case from D.C. to L.A., then it feels three hours later than it really is; to the person traveling, it feels more like eleven o'clock than eight. Now, if the person were to travel from L.A. to D.C., then it would feel three hours earlier, so if it were eight in the morning in D.C., then it would feel like five in the morning to the person who just arrived from L.A."

"Cute," Don said. He turned to Alan. "Can I shoot him now, or do I really have to wait till the breakfast dishes are done? 'Cause, ya know, seriously, I could like, just, do it and have him out of here and the mess cleaned up before you know it."

"Maybe later," Alan replied, not looking up from his paper.

"Thanks, Dad," Charlie said, smiling wryly.

"Since you two are here," Alan continued, "maybe one of you knows something about the mess I found in the kitchen."

"What mess?" Don asked.

"Oh, the bowl and glass drying in the dish rack threw me for a loop, since I know I put all the dishes in the dishwasher last night," Alan replied, "but I'm more curious about why there's crawfish chowder splattered over the inside of the microwave."

"That would be my fault," Don replied sheepishly. "I heated up the rest of the chowder for Kelly last night." Charlie and Alan stopped their activities and looked at Don, intrigued.

"When did she emerge?" Alan asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Around two," Don replied. "I caught her rummaging around in the fridge. First time I ever had a midnight snack at gunpoint."

"She pointed a gun at you?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but when Agent Holden came to check on her, he had one," Don replied. "The outside surveillance team saw the light and alerted him." He took a sip of his coffee. "I know they're doing this stuff for a reason, but I think they're going a bit overboard."

"Donny, she's the daughter of the Vice-President," Alan reminded him. "Their job is to keep her safe. If anything happens to her while she's here we could be in a lot of trouble." He went back to reading his paper, leaving Charlie and Don to contemplate what their father just said.

"Did she like it?" Charlie asked after a few moments. "The chowder, I mean." He made most of the chowder on his own, and he had been worried about what Kelly might think of it.

"She liked it, Charlie, don't worry," Don answered, doing his best not to grin. He was debating on whether or not to tell Charlie that she really loved the flowers when he glanced over and smiled. "Good morning, Kelly." Charlie and Alan looked up as the young woman shuffled in with Paul behind her.

While Paul was dressed for the day in jeans, sneakers, a black polo shirt, and a matching sports jacket, Kelly was still in her unique pajamas, now very rumpled. Her hair was tousled and tangled, and she appeared to be in a slight daze. She walked over to the dining table and plopped down, dropping her head onto the table with a small thud. Alan and Charlie raised their eyebrows when they saw both sides of her outfit; they glanced at each other, then Charlie blinked and rubbed his eyes.

"For a second I thought I was having a hangover, the way my eyes are hurting," he said, "but thank goodness it's just Kelly's outfit."

"I like blue and orange, okay?" Kelly protested without looking up.

Don gave his younger brother a look. "Just how would you know what a hangover feels like?" he asked in a 'satisfy my curiosity, methinx I missed something interesting, if I don't like your answer this calm casual friendly tone is going bye bye" voice.

Charlie's smile faded. "Uh, well, you see, that's an interesting story, Don," he said nervously.

"And I'm very interested in hearing about it," Don replied, leaning forward.

Charlie hesitated. "Uh," he said slowly, "there was this ... party earlier this year …."

"Ah, yes, the New Year's party," Alan replied, smiling at his son. "Larry had to bring you home after that one." He saw Don's expression and patted his shoulder. "Don, I already talked to him about that."

"You told me the next day you had the flu," Don said to Charlie. Charlie looked sheepish.

"Kelly, did you sleep well?" Alan asked the young woman, who had kept her head on the table the entire time.

"Caffeine," Kelly said, softly. "Please?"

"Will coffee do?" Alan asked, getting up.

Kelly raised her head and propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her hand. "Make it fully loaded, and you got yourself a deal." Alan smiled and headed for the kitchen. Kelly sighed and turned to Don. "Mornin'." She turned to Charlie, who was just staring at her. "Hey, Charlie." She furrowed her eyebrows as he kept staring at her. "What?"

Charlie shook himself from his daze. Even with her unique outfit, her tousled hair, and her sleepy-eyed expression … she still looked pretty. "Uh, nothing," he replied quickly, turning back to his work, hoping he wasn't blushing. He felt a swift kick under the table. "Ow!" He frowned, looking at Don, knowing his brother had been the one to kick him.

"What?" Kelly asked.

"Uh, nothing," Charlie replied slowly. "Little leg cramp." Don gave him a look, and Charlie responded by kicking him back.

"So, Charlie, Don said that you were the one who picked out the flowers for me," Kelly said.

"Yeah," Charlie replied, ducking his head a little. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah, they were nice," Kelly replied as Alan came back, handing her a mug of coffee before taking his seat. "Thank you." She took a sip and smiled, starting to feel a little more awake. "How did you know orchids were my favorite flower?"

Charlie froze. He glanced over to see if she was joking, but she was serious. He just stared, blushing, opening and closing his mouth a few times. He cleared his throat nervously, trying to come up with a good reason. "Uh," he said slowly. "I, uh, I just thought roses were too … clichéd."

Alan and Don glanced at each other with a look in their eyes that said they really wanted to grin, but they knew better. Alan glanced over at Paul and saw the agent roll his eyes, and Alan wondered if the agent had had to deal with any guys interested in Kelly. As amusing as a mental image of Paul chasing off a potential suitor by shooting at him, Alan didn't like the thought of that potential suitor being his Charlie.

"Well, whatever the reason," Kelly said, "thank you." Her stomach growled a little, and she blushed. She sighed. "Okay, how is it that four grown men can polish off all but about four spoonfuls of my dad's crawfish chowder?"

"Consider that a lesson in this household," Alan replied. "If you miss a meal, then there may not be any left over later." He gave her a knowing look, and the young woman blushed and shrunk a little in her chair. After a few moments Alan smiled. "I made some eggs, toast, and bacon." Kelly perked up, definitely interested. "There's still some left, but if you're not hungry, then I -"

"I'm hungry," Kelly interrupted.

Alan's eyes sparkled, but his expression didn't waver. "You sure? I don't want to force you to eat …."

"No, that's okay," Kelly said quickly. "I'm sure, I'm sure."

Alan sighed and nodded as he put his paper down. "If you're really sure," he said as he got to his feet; he looked at Paul. "Agent, can I get you anything?"

"Sure, that'd be fine," Paul replied. "Thank you." Alan nodded and headed to the kitchen. Kelly sipped her coffee as Paul took an empty chair, then she glanced over and saw the newspaper. She saw part of an article with her name, and she reached over and plucked the paper, settling in her chair and reading the article's headline; her eyebrows shot up.

"I don't believe this!" she shouted.

"What's wrong?" Don asked as everyone looked over.

Kelly held up the page, pointing to an article in the Opinion section. 'City of Angels Ready For Hellraiser?' was printed in bold black letters. Underneath the headline was a photo taken of Kelly yesterday as she disembarked Air Force Two. She looked at the page.

"'Los Angeles is known as being a place where it isn't hard to find intense situations,'" Kelly read out loud with anger in her voice, "'but nothing the city has to offer can even compare to the firecracker of a daughter of Vice-President Cooter Davenport, Kelly Davenport, who arrived yesterday afternoon.'" She skimmed through the article as Alan stuck his head out.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Who the hell does this person think he is?" she asked, ignoring everyone; she continued to skim the article as Alan went back into the kitchen.

"Well, Kelly, it is an opinion article," Don replied gently.

"This jacka is saying that the only reason I'm out here is because Charlie and I are potential lovers," Kelly said.

"What?" Charlie said loudly, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. "You're joking, right?" Kelly shoved the paper into his hands. Charlie took it and read the article, then he blushed furiously. "That is not true!"

"I know!" Kelly replied. "I mean, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" She skimmed the rest of the article. "'From the situation in Washington earlier this week, to rumors that she might have been responsible for the smoke bomb incident at Heathrow over a week ago, yours truly has to wonder if this young woman has really earned the right to walk among civilized people – or if her daddy needs to keep her on a tighter leash.'" She angrily crumbled up the paper and tossed it aside, then started swearing – in every foreign language she knew. Thankfully, Alan came in as she moved on from German to Italian.

"Okay," he said, bringing in two plates and forks. He set a plate and fork in front of Kelly and Paul, and then he picked up his crumpled newspaper before taking his seat. He eyed everyone around the table. Charlie looked embarrassed as he continued working on his stuff and Don stared at his plate as he ate, staying silent. Alan knew that silence wasn't a 'communicating with his eggs' silence; it was a 'lining up his targets' silence. Paul had disdain written all over his face, and Kelly had her head propped up on one arm, using her free hand to push eggs around her plate. Alan sighed and opened his paper; he read the article himself, even though he had clearly heard Kelly's voice in the kitchen. When he finished, he slowly folded the paper and put it down.

"Look, I know that this is not something any of us wanted to hear about," he said, "but we all know it isn't true."

"Yeah, but it doesn't make it any easier to put up with," Kelly said glumly. "Especially when you've been the target of this crap for months." She speared some eggs on her fork and put them in her mouth. She chewed for a few moments before swallowing, then her eyes brightened slightly. "Good eggs."

"Thank you," Alan replied, smiling.

Kelly smiled back a little as she continued eating. She was starving and really wanted to just devour everything, but she knew better; she ate quickly but neatly. As she chewed a mouthful of bacon she glanced over at Charlie and his work. She tilted her head. "What are you doing over there?" she asked.

"Huh?" Charlie looked up.

"You," Kelly said. "It looks like you're doing at least three things right now." Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. "Eating breakfast, talking to us, and doing … whatever it is all that stuff is."

"Oh," Charlie replied. "Then I'm doing four things." Kelly raised an eyebrow. "I'm doing two things: finishing touches on a seminar I have today and then some consulting work."

"What's the seminar about?" Kelly asked.

"'The Mathematical Applications of Ancient Sports In Today's Society,'" Charlie replied. "It's part of my 'Math For Dummies' lecture series." His eyes brightened. "Hey, you should come by."

"Are you saying I'm a dummy?" Kelly asked, a smile playing on her lips as she held up a piece of buttered toast with jelly. "Because if you are, then you'll be wearing this toast in your hair."

"Actually," Charlie said slowly as he kept his eyes on the toast, calculating the risks, trajectory, etc, of being hit with the toast, "I-I-I was just thinking you-you-you might find it interesting." He chuckled nervously. "Uh … please don't hit me." Kelly grinned and took a bite of the toast, and Charlie visibly relaxed; he slowly smiled and chuckled. He glanced over at his father and brother and saw their amused smiles; he rolled his eyes and went back to work. "Cute."

"That's me," she replied. "So, what's the consulting thing for?"

"Oh, it's for a company," Charlie replied. He heard Don clear his throat loudly, and Charlie smiled. "It's okay, Don. I think I can get around the whole 'have to kill her if I tell her' thing." He glanced over at Paul as the agent cleared his throat, and he saw him frowning as he removed his gun and placed it on the table. Charlie froze, staring at the gun. "Uh … I was kidding, Agent Holden."

"I take all threats against Kelly seriously, Dr. Eppes," Paul said calmly.

"Agent, Holden," Alan said, trying to keep his temper in check. He knew the agent was just doing his job, but his son had just had a gun pulled at him; Alan didn't like that – period. "Charlie does have the highest clearance at the NSA. And he was joking."

"I would advise that any threats against Kelly – even in joking – be kept to a minimum," Paul advised as he put his gun away.

"Look, if you can't tell me, then I understand," Kelly said to Charlie.

"No, it's okay," Charlie replied quickly. "Uh … this company wants me to come up with a series of math problems for a contest they're sponsoring for kids."

"Sounds interesting," Kelly said. "What kind of problems?"

"Well, all kinds of problems," Charlie replied. He handed over a sheet of paper with many numbers written on it. "This one deals with the Pythagorean Theorem."

"Ah, yes, I remember that," Kelly said, putting down her fork and taking the paper. "The sum of the square roots of two sides of a right triangle will equal the square root of the hypotenuse. Put simply: A squared plus B squared equals C squared."

"Exactly," Charlie smiled, impressed.

Kelly smiled back and read the paper Charlie handed her. She tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows. "Uh … Charlie, what age group is this for?" she asked.

"I think they said sixth graders," Charlie answered. "Why?"

"There is no way you can give this problem to the sponsors," Kelly said.

"Why not?" Charlie asked.

"It's too hard," Kelly replied.

"It is not," Charlie said. "I created the problem myself."

"There's the problem," Kelly muttered.

"Excuse me?" Charlie asked.

Kelly sighed. "Charlie, what you have here is way too advanced for sixth graders," she said. "I can't even understand it, and I'm an adult. What makes you think that they will?"

"Well, I understood that stuff when I was their age," Charlie replied.

"And you also graduated high school when you were nine," Kelly retorted. "That should say something to you." She reached over and grabbed a piece of paper and a red marker. Everyone watched as she scribbled furiously. After a few moments she held up her drawing: three different-sized squares arranged to where one of each of their sides connected to form a right triangle. Each square had a number beside it, smallest to largest – 3, 4, and 5, respectively. "There."

"What is that?" Charlie asked.

"That is something more appropriate for sixth graders," Kelly replied. "I would probably go back and double check the others." She handed the paper and marker to him.

Charlie forced a smile on his face as he took the items from Kelly, then he slowly nodded. "Okay," he said curtly. He started gathering up his things into a neat pile. "Well, this has been nice and all, but I have to go; I don't want to be late." He picked up his papers and left the table.

Kelly watched him walk away, eyebrows furrowed, then she looked back at Alan and Don, confused. "What was that about?" she asked.

Don sighed and got to his feet. "Oh, don't worry too much about Charlie, Kelly," he said. "I, unfortunately, have to get to work." He smiled at Alan. "Bye, Dad."

"Take care, Donny," Alan replied, smiling.

"And you," Don said, pointing to Kelly. Kelly raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. Don smiled and reached over, ruffling her hair. "Behave, shorty." He headed out, leaving Alan alone with Paul and Kelly.

Kelly looked at Alan and blinked. "He wants to die," she said. "That's the only explanation."

Alan chuckled. "He likes you," he replied. "Don't take it personal."

"Great," Kelly said wryly. "I feel so much better." She sighed. "Well, are you going to leave me too?"

Alan looked at her, surprised. "Well, uh, I have to go run an errand later this morning, but for now I'm staying put."

Kelly nodded. "Cool," she replied as she stood up. "Well, I'm going to go get dressed." She left the table.

"You want me to come up?" Paul asked.

"Paul, I'm a big girl," Kelly answered, smiling. "I can dress myself. I'll be down in a few minutes." She headed out of the dining room.

"I'll help with the dishes," Paul said as he and Alan stood up.

"Thanks," Alan replied. The two men gathered up the dishes and headed to the kitchen. The two worked as a team, with Paul scraping food from the plates and Alan rinsing the dishes off and putting them in the dishwasher. "So, how long have you been on Kelly's detail?"

"Less than a month," Paul answered.

"She seems like a good kid," Alan said.

"She is," Paul replied, nodding. "She's a little headstrong and stubborn, but she's got a good heart." Alan nodded in agreement. The two worked in silence for a few minutes, then Kelly suddenly walked in. Both men looked up – and their eyebrows nearly popped off their heads.

Kelly stood just inside the kitchen, leaning against the frame. She wore a form-fitting white tank top and a pair of bleached denim short – extremely short – shorts. She wore no socks or shoes, but her toenails were painted royal blue with yellow, orange, and red flames. Her hair had been brushed back into a tight ponytail.

"What in the …?" Paul asked, as a plate slipped through his fingers into the trashcan. He quickly fished it out and handed it to Alan before looking back at Kelly. "What is that?"

"It's what I'm wearing," Kelly replied.

"You are most certainly not wearing that," Paul said. He glanced at her shorts, blushing. "Where did you get those?"

"Daisy gave them to me," Kelly answered.

**Balladeer: And you know Cooter's gonna be talkin' to Daisy about that when he finds out.**

"Does your father know you have those?" Paul asked.

"No, and there's no reason to tell him," Kelly replied before turning and heading into the living room.

Paul sighed and hurried after her; he caught up with her in the living room as she flopped down on the couch. "Kelly, why are you wearing that, other than to annoy me?"

"If this is annoying you, then that's you're problem," Kelly replied as she sprawled out on her back, closing her eyes. "I'm wearing this, because it feels comfortable."

"That's because you're practically wearing nothing at all!" Paul shouted as Alan walked in.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Alan said, "but I'm going to get going."

"Where are you going?" Paul asked.

"Gotta take my car to the mechanic's," Alan said.

Kelly opened her eyes and sat up. "The mechanic?" she asked, interested. "What's wrong with your car?"

"Oh, it's just acting up and making a noise it shouldn't be making," Alan replied.

Kelly jumped to her feet. "Can I look at it?"

Alan furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head. "You want to look at my car?" he asked.

"Yeah, I would," Kelly answered.

"But it's not a very extraordinary car," Alan said. "It's just a -"

"No, I mean I want to see what the problem is," Kelly replied. "Maybe I could fix it for you. I do know a thing or two about cars."

"No, that's okay," Alan said. "You're a guest, and you don't need to be doing stuff like that."

"So, you'd rather drive some place and have some person charge you possibly hundreds of dollars to fix your car when I could do right here for a lot less – maybe even nothing?" Kelly asked, folding her arms, smiling.

Alan put his hands on his hips. "Now, you wouldn't be pulling my leg, would you?" he asked.

"Sir," Paul said, "trust me. She knows cars. Believe me."

"Please?" Kelly asked. "I'll even make you a deal. If I can't fix it, I will pay for the repairs myself. Please?" She gave Alan her best big-eyed innocent look.

Alan folded his arms across his chest and considered her request. After a few moments of contemplation he nodded. "Okay," he said.

"Great," Kelly smiled. "Now, where's your car?"

"It's in the drive, near the garage," Alan replied. Kelly bounded toward the back door. "Whoa, where do you think you're going?"

"Out to see the car," Kelly replied. She opened the backdoor and walked into the backyard.

Paul sighed and brought his wrist to his mouth. "Be alert, boys," he said, heading after Kelly. "Liberty is heading toward the garage. Do not detain, just keep an eye on her."

"Roger that, Paul," an agent replied. "Liberty is in – d--n, what is she wearing?"

"I'll be sure to keep a real close eye on her," another agent remarked.

Paul rolled his eyes. "Okay, guys, knock it off or I'll tell her father what you said," he said as he caught up with Kelly making her way across the yard to the driveway. "You know, you could at least wait for me," he said.

"Where's the fun in that?" Kelly asked, smiling. She stopped in front of the dark blue Ford Taurus in the driveway. "This must be the car."

"Bingo," Alan said as he walked up, holding a set of keys in his hand.

"2003 Ford Taurus," Kelly said, folding her arms as she looked at the vehicle. "Sedan LX … three-liter, twenty-four valve V6 engine?"

"Very good," Alan said, smiling impressively.

Kelly smiled, ducking her head and blushing slightly. "I make sure to keep current on all vehicles," she said. "So, what's the problem?"

"I'll show you," Alan said. He walked over and got in the driver's side of the car; he put the key in the ignition and started the engine. A very loud grinding sound emanated from the car, and Kelly – and even Paul – winced. After a few moments the engine started. Alan let it run for a bit before turning it off; he got out.

"Ooh, you weren't joking," Kelly said.

"Yeah," Alan said.

"Can you pop the hood?" Kelly asked. Alan nodded and reached into the car, pulling the hood release. Kelly lifted the hood and propped it up. She leaned over to view the engine, and Alan and Paul tried to ignore the fact that her barely-covered behind was sticking out. Paul glanced over and saw that a couple of agents were looking over, watching Kelly with interest, and Paul gave them a 'get back to your posts now' look; they immediately left the area, and Paul was glad that the driveway was concealed from the front. He wasn't sure how Cooter would react to seeing his daughter's behind – in those shorts – on the news and in the papers.

"Okay," Kelly said as she stood up, her fingers covered in dark grease. "From the sound of it, I can tell you it's one of three possibilities."

"And what would those three possibilities be?" Alan asked.

"Well, it could be that the ring gear on the flywheel is damaged or broken," Kelly said. "Or the starter drive gear is damaged or broken, or the starter bolts are missing or loose. And I have some great news about that too."

"What's that?" Alan asked.

"I just saved a bunch of money by switching over to Geiko," Kelly replied calmly. Paul and Alan just stared at her, then she cracked up laughing.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" Alan replied, smiling.

"Uh huh," Kelly replied, grinning.

"If you don't watch it," Alan warned, wagging a finger at her, "you will be on the receiving end of my form of retaliation."

"And that would be?" Kelly asked, folding her arms.

"That's my secret," Alan replied furtively.

Kelly kept the smile on her face as she brushed a loose strand of hair away from her eyes, getting a smudge of grease on her forehead. "So, anyway, the repair is actually quite simple. If it's the ring gear or the starter drive gear, then all I have to do is replace the starter motor. If it's the starter bolts, I just gotta tighten them or replace them. Either way, it shouldn't take me more than a few hours."

"How much are we looking at?" Alan asked.

"Not nearly as bad as taking it to a mechanic," Kelly replied. "Depending on what it actually is, you're looking at anywhere from ten dollars to about a hundred."

Alan folded his arms, pursing his lips. "Okay," he said after a few moments. "If you really want to do this …."

Kelly smiled from ear to ear, and she threw herself at Alan, hugging him tightly, even before she realized what she was doing. Suddenly, her eyes flew open, and she stiffened, then she pulled away. "Sorry," she said, clearly embarrassed.

Alan smiled warmly. "It's okay," he said. He felt like pulling Kelly back and letting her know she didn't overstep her boundaries, but he knew she'd only pull away if he did that. "Um … I'm going to go get the tools." Kelly nodded, and Alan headed to the garage.

**Balladeer: Well, how about that … looks like Kelly might be taking a shine to all the men in this household … not that that would be a bad thing, actually.**

(End of Chapter 6)


	7. Chapter 7

- - - - 

Don walked casually down the hall of the L.A. Times, trying to remember the directions the receptionist had given him. Left … then right … then third cubicle on the left …. He stopped in front of the small cubicle, staying far enough back at first to observe the reporter who had written the article about Kelly and his brother, Marty Benes (he had gotten the name from the receptionist as well). The agent wasn't too surprised by the things he saw in the cubicle. From sleazy posters to desk items that the man couldn't believe the reporter even had up … he just shook his head, chuckling mirthlessly. If the reporter only knew how much his own cubicle was just adding fuel to Don's fire.

Marty himself sat at his desk, working at his computer, his back to the agent. The reporter looked to be in his mid-forties, and he had brown hair, but he was balding, and he had a goatee. He wore black Converse All-Stars, faded jeans, and a white shirt with 'FU!' on the back. Don raised an eyebrow.

"Marty Benes?" he asked.

"Yeah?" Marty asked as he turned around.

"I'd like to have a word with you about your article this morning."

Marty smirked. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think you really need to print a retraction."

"Look," Marty said as he stood up, "maybe you've heard of something called the First Amendment, which guarantees me the right to print my stuff without anyone censoring it."

"I've heard of that amendment," Don said, nodding. "Have you heard of mine?"

"What's that?" Marty asked, folding his arms, smirking.

"Oh, you haven't heard of it?" Don replied casually. "No? No, I don't guess you would have, you know, not having any relationships with other people. It's the one where I get to kick your a."

Marty snorted. "You can't touch me. Now, unless you want to give me anything useful for tomorrow's article, then I suggest you get out."

Don smiled. "Oh, I have something to give you, alright," he said. He took out his gun and put it down on Marty's desk, then he removed his badge and put it next to his gun. He then turned and grabbed Marty by his shirt, slamming him into his desk, pinning him against his computer. He got close to Marty's face, his teeth clenched. "Let me reiterate that: you will print a retraction for tomorrow's edition."

"You can't tell me what to do," Marty sneered.

"I'm not telling you what to do," Don said. "I'm just thinking how awful it would be to get a call tomorrow from the I.R.S. wanting to know about certain indiscretions on your tax forms."

"I'm clean," Marty said.

"Not from what I heard," Don replied. "You see, the Secret Service has this little perk of being able to get information on anyone at any time. Now, about your life: we know the date, place, and time you were born, your dog's name from when you were a kid, your favorite chewing gum, and how much you gambled away on your little 'business trip' to Lone Star Park last year, among other things. Stuff that I'm sure a lot of people would find very interesting." He brought Marty close, and he dropped his voice.

"Now, either you print a retraction tomorrow," he continued, "or I'll make sure the I.R.S. is all over you like Clinton on an intern. Do I make myself clear?" Marty, pale and sweating, slowly nodded, and Don let him go. He grabbed his gun and badge and headed out of the office; he suddenly stopped and turned around as Marty slowly sat back in his chair. "Oh, and that also means you leave my brother and Miss Davenport alone. Understand?" Marty nodded and Don left, smiling to himself. He felt good being able to silence a sleaze for a change … and even help out his brother and a damsel in distress at the same time.

- - - -

Larry walked into Charlie's office and saw the young man at his board, scribbling furiously. The physicist stopped near Charlie's desk and watched the mathematician scribble like a mad man, muttering softly. Occasionally, Charlie would look over at his desk, read something from some papers, and then he'd go back and write on his board.

Larry tilted his head. He had been in Charlie's seminar earlier, and he had noticed that his friend had been really off kilter – even for Charlie. As he gave his seminar, he seemed distracted, curt, and … very un-Charlie-like. Worried that something may be bothering him Larry had headed to Charlie's office after the seminar, but he had been intercepted by some students who needed his help. Ten minutes passed before Larry could get away, and he hurried to Charlie's office.

"Charles?" Larry cautiously asked.

Charlie suddenly whirled around, and his expression was a mixture of anger and determination. His expression softened a little, but he didn't say anything as he turned his attention back to his chalkboard.

"Is everything okay?" Larry slowly asked.

"Everything's fine," Charlie replied curtly.

"Are you sure?" Larry asked, "because I … I found you to be a little … distracted during your seminar earlier."

"I did just fine on my seminar, thank you," Charlie replied.

"Yes, you did," Larry said, "but I got the feeling that something else was on your mind."

"Am I stupid?" Charlie asked suddenly as he turned around.

"No," Larry replied slowly. "Why … why would you think that?"

"Oh, just making sure," Charlie replied. "Because according to Kelly, apparently I can't do simple sixth grade math problems." He turned back to his board and started scribbling with his chalk.

"Kelly?" Larry replied, racking his brain, then he remembered. "Oh, yes, the Vice-President's daughter. That's right, she's staying with you. How is that going?" Charlie stopped and turned around, giving his friend a look. "Oh, that bad, huh?" He shrugged. "Well, Charles, a lot of people did advise you that it might not be the best idea to have someone like her staying with someone like you ... especially after what happened earlier this week."

"Who does she think she is?" Charlie loudly blurted out. "I mean, I open my home to her after she nearly gets me thrown into federal prison, I make her one of her favorite meals, I get her favorite drink, I get her all these things that I think she'll like – I even went with Don's advice to get the blue stuff over the pink stuff. Not to mention I pick out some really pretty flowers for her – and it turns out that orchids are her favorite – but does she appreciate any of it? No, of course not! She comes down this morning, dressed in a … a … a blue and orange nightmare, with zeros and ones all – and I mean all – over it, like - like she was some stupid binary program!"

"Unconventional, yet interesting," Larry replied softly, trying to picture that image in his head, then he smiled, remembering something he saw earlier that morning. "Now, this sudden change in attitude wouldn't also, by any chance, have something to do with a certain opinion article I read this morning, would it?" Charlie froze and blushed, and even though Larry couldn't see his face the physicist grinned. It was nice to have a chance to get back at his young friend for all the times Charlie had tricked him into thinking equations he needed were wrong after completing them. "Well, if it's any consolation, I think you two would be a cute couple."

"We are not a couple!" Charlie all but shouted. "We aren't even friends!" Larry nodded, humoring his young colleague. "I mean, what kind of friend threatens to throw buttered and jellied toast in my hair?"

"Well, you know," Larry said, "when -"

"I mean, I thought she was a little stuck up when we met," Charlie interrupted, "but then we had a great time, and she seemed like a really nice person." He shook his head and continued to scribble.

Larry nodded. "Now, this reminds me of -"

"But she is not a nice person," Charlie continued. "She is … I mean, that girl is such a big … a big anomaly." He continued to ramble loudly as he scrawled across his board.

Larry nodded, pursed his lips – then he turned and simply walked out of the office. He knew when Charlie was in a mood it could be at least an hour before Charlie would calm down enough for anyone else to get a word in; Larry knew he could use that time to work on a paper. He sighed as he headed into the corridor, and he nearly bumped into Amita.

"Oh, Larry, hi," Amita said. "Is Charlie in there?"

"And I swear I will prove that my stuff is so much better than hers!" Charlie said loudly.

"Yeah, he's there," Larry answered.

"Who is he talking to?" Amita asked.

"Me," Larry replied.

"But why are you out here?" Amita asked, then it clicked, and she nodded. "Oh, he's in one of his moods, right?"

"Uh huh," Larry replied, chuckling a bit. "And it's a doozy."

Amita smiled. "Tell me."

"You know how he invited the Vice-President's daughter out to spend the week?" Larry asked. Amita nodded. "Well, apparently, something happened, and I think she might have inadvertently insulted Charles' intelligence."

"And furthermore!" Charlie shouted, but he trailed off before they could hear the rest of his threat. Amita and Larry glanced at each other, then snickered as they headed down the hall together. They both had better things to do than listen to Charlie rant and rave.

- - - -

It was nearly noon when Alan came out of the house, carrying a plate with a turkey sandwich – with lettuce, tomatoes, and a little mayo – and a glass filled with ice cubes and lemonade. He walked over to the driveway and saw Paul standing next to his car, looking attentive. Tools were scattered around the car, and Alan furrowed his eyebrows when he saw his car's hood up, – and a blanket spread out under the car, with a pair of slender bare legs and feet (with blue painted toenails) sticking out, laying on top of the blanket.

"Kelly?" Alan asked. Kelly scooted out, and Alan could see her face, hands, arms, and clothes were slightly smudged with grease and oil. "What are you doing?"

"Checking your car out," Kelly replied as she stood up.

"Did you find out what's wrong with it?" Alan asked.

"Yeah, it was the starter bolts," Kelly answered. "They were just very loose, so I tightened them." She grinned. "Go on, give it a start."

Alan raised an eyebrow, then he handed the plate and glass to Paul before going over and climbing into the driver's seat. He turned the key in the ignition – and the engine purred to life. Kelly grinned at Paul, and the agent smiled back at her. After a few moments Alan turned off the engine and climbed out, smiling from ear to ear.

"So?" Kelly asked as Alan walked over.

"I am very impressed," Alan said as he took the plate and glass back from Paul. "You saved me a trip. How much do I owe you for the labor?"

"I can't take your money, sir," Kelly replied. She eyed the sandwich and drink, and she smiled. "But I do work for food."

Alan chuckled and handed the plate and glass to the young woman. "I hope you like turkey." Kelly immediately attacked the sandwich, taking big bites and chewing fast. "Apparently you do." He watched at she ate, trying not to laugh at how much she looked like a blonde chipmunk with her cheeks puffing out. She quickly polished off the sandwich and the drink, burping softly.

"Oh, that hit the spot," Kelly said. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Alan said.

Kelly glanced at the house, then looked at Alan, her smile fading. "Um … can I ask you something, Mr. Eppes?" she asked.

Alan leaned over, getting really close. "Only if you start calling me Alan," he replied furtively. "What's on your mind, Kelly?"

"It's about Charlie," Kelly said.

Alan stood up and nodded. "What do you want to know?"

Kelly sighed. "Does he hate me?" she asked. Alan raised an eyebrow, surprised. "I was thinking about this morning while I was fixing the bolts, and I was just trying to help him, but I can understand that he has every right to be mad at me."

"Why do you say that?" Alan asked.

"Because I butted in," Kelly answered, looking a little embarrassed. "I shouldn't have helped him. I have a bad habit of sticking my nose into other people's business."

"Now, wait just a second," Alan said. "I will agree with you in that you should have asked Charlie first, but don't think for a minute he hates you because of that."

"Really?" Kelly asked.

"Hey, I'd like to think I know my son just a little bit," Alan joked. He was glad Kelly smiled a little. "All joking aside, Kelly, don't worry too much about Charlie. Sure, he was a little indignant this morning, but he'll be fine by the time he gets home later."

"I still think I should apologize for what I did," Kelly said.

Alan smiled warmly. "I think that would be a good idea," he said. He eyed his car. "And, uh, I think it would also be a good idea to tell me what you're doing to my car."

"Well, when I was fixing the bolts, I noticed a few things that needed to be checked on," Kelly said. "The oil and filter need to be changed, the antifreeze is low, the coolant is near empty, and your engine needs to be cleaned."

Alan raised an eyebrow. "And?" he asked slowly.

"And I was wondering if you'd let me take care of them?" Kelly asked sheepishly. Alan looked at her, wary. "Mr. – uh, Alan, I've been around cars since I was a baby. I know what I'm doing."

"Trust me, she does," Paul asked. "I've seen her around cars. They're second nature to her."

Alan eyed the young woman. "Sure," he said after a few moments of contemplating the situation. "Just be careful, please."

Kelly grinned, and she almost pounced on Alan to hug him again, but she stopped herself just in time. Alan had other plans, and he ignored the grease and oil covering the young woman as he gently grabbed her and pulled her close, hugging her. Kelly froze, her eyes wide, and Alan could feel her tense a little. He pulled back and smiled down at her.

"It's okay to hug me if you want," he said. "I don't mind." He could see a hint of sadness in Kelly's eyes, and he furrowed his eyebrows slightly. "Are you okay?"

Kelly nodded. "Yeah," she replied smiling. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I better get to work; it's going to take a while to do all this stuff." Alan opened his mouth, but she stopped him. "And I already have it covered; I asked Paul to send one of the agents to get supplies I needed." She indicated a few small auto parts bags near the right front tire. "And you don't have to worry about paying anyone back." She crawled back under the car and started tinkering with it. "But I would worry about getting that shirt into the wash before the stains set."

Alan glanced down and saw oil and grease smudges on the front of his shirt and arms. He chuckled and shook his head as he headed back toward the house with the empty plate and glass.

**Balladeer: It's nice to see that Kelly's finally latchin' on to someone … and this Alan fella seems to be just what she needs.**

(End of Chapter 7)


	8. Chapter 8

- - - - 

Don drove his Chevy Suburban down the street, and he frowned slightly as he approached the drive to his old home. Most of the reporters had left, but there were still a few stragglers. Don did his best to ignore them as he turned into the drive and slowly pulled up close to his father's car. The agent parked his vehicle as he stared at the Taurus, not sure if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. The hood was raised, an old blanket was spread out under the car, auto parts bags were strewn on the driveway nearby with greasy oily rags – and a pair of slender bare legs (with dark oily smudges) stuck out from under the Taurus.

Don turned off his car and he slowly got out, glancing at the Secret Service agent who watched him from his post nearby – with one hand at his side. Don saw the agent bring his wrist to his mouth and say something Don couldn't hear, but he didn't care. He walked over to the car. He tilted his head as he opened his mouth, then glanced at Paul, who stood nearby at a relaxed attention. Don decided it was best not to say anything as he turned and headed towards the house; he walked in the back door.

"Dad?" he called out.

"In the kitchen," Alan replied.

Don headed into the kitchen and saw his dad standing over a large salad bowl, mixing greens, tomatoes, mushrooms, carrots, and peppers; Alan added a light vinaigrette dressing to the bowl and continued tossing the salad. Don sniffed the air, and he smiled. "I smell rib eye and baked potatoes," he said.

"Yep," Alan replied as he put the salad bowl in the fridge. "Got about thirty minutes left on the steaks." He sighed as he started cleaning up the counters. "So, how was your day?"

"Not bad," Don said. "How was yours? Anything unusual happen?"

"Nope," Alan replied.

"You sure?" Don asked.

"Yep," Alan answered.

"Dad, why is Kelly under your car?" Don asked. "It looks like she's been taking it apart."

"Actually," Alan replied, "she did that earlier today; she should be finishing up soon."

"'Finishing up?'" Don asked. "What did she do?"

"Fixed the noise, changed the oil and filter, replaced the coolant and antifreeze, and cleaned the entire engine," Alan replied. "What do you want to drink tonight?"

"You're telling me that Kelly fixed your car?" Don asked.

"I already did, but yes," Alan replied. "What do you want to drink?"

"How in the world could she fix a car?" Don asked.

"Because she knows about cars," Alan answered. "Now, for the last time, what do you want to drink?"

Don sighed. "Uh, beer, I guess," he said. "She really fixed your car?"

"Yep," Alan smiled. "Saved me three hundred dollars. I say we keep her around." They heard the back door open and then …

"Hello?" Kelly asked.

"In here, honey," Alan said.

Don smiled. "Sounds like you two hit it off today," he said softly.

"Yeah, I didn't call her 'Shorty,'" Alan replied, smiling. He looked over his son's shoulder, his smile growing. "Hi, Kelly."

"Hey, Kelly," Don said as he turned around, still smiling. His smile quickly faded when he saw the young woman standing just in the kitchen, with Paul close by. Don wasn't sure if he was more shocked by the fact that she was covered from head to toe – literally – in oil, or by what she was wearing. "What the …?"

"What?" Kelly asked Don.

"Did you wear that outside?" Don asked.

"Yeah, why?" Kelly asked as she walked over to the sink and grabbed the bar of soap. She turned on the faucet and started scrubbing a lather on her hands to clean off the grease and oil.

"You … you … you're wearing … those!" Don sputtered.

"Again I ask 'why?'" Kelly repeated calmly.

"They're … short!" Don said.

"Thanks for the heads up," Kelly smirked. "Care to tell me something else I already know?"

"Don't you think you need to cover yourself?" Don asked.

"Don, everything that needs to be covered is covered," Kelly replied, grabbing a towel and drying her hands.

"Just barely," Alan muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Kelly stuck her tongue out at Alan. "I'm going to go take a shower," she replied, heading out of the kitchen; Paul followed.

"And put some clothes on!" Don shouted after her, smiling in spite of himself.

Kelly smiled and shook her head as she headed into the living room. She was halfway across the room when the front door opened and Charlie walked in. Kelly stopped in her tracks as Charlie closed the door, then looked up and saw Kelly. He stopped short when he saw her standing there, and he raised an eyebrow at her appearance. Part of him was stunned to see her skimpy attire … but any sign of normal male reaction disappeared as he narrowed his eyes at her.

Kelly sighed. "Look, Charlie, before you say anything, I want to ap -"

"No, actually, you don't get to say anything," Charlie replied. "I have a few things to say to you about your so-called 'better-than-mine' problem." He started rummaging around in the bag he had slung over his shoulder.

Kelly chuckled mirthlessly. "You are truly unbelievable," she said.

"What?" Charlie asked, not looking up from his bag.

"I was actually going to apologize to you for not asking you first before I helped out," Kelly said. She saw Alan and Don come in from the kitchen, but she made no indication of their presence as she looked at Charlie. "And I'm still going to apologize for that, because I was wrong for doing that. And I will try very hard not to do that in the future, okay?" Charlie opened his mouth, but Kelly held up her hand. "You want to continue this then fine. The white flag I was waving has been dropped, and the gloves are off."

Charlie looked smugly as he folded his arms. "Hit me with your best shot," he said.

**Balladeer: Oh, Charlie … yer about to get a lesson in challengin' a Davenport.**

Paul pursed his lips as he took a step back, making sure to stay out of the line of fire between Charlie and Kelly. At the same time Alan and Don quickly moved over to the couch and sat down, watching with smiles on their faces as the drama unfolded before them.

"Your problem is quite simple," Kelly said to Charlie. "You are one of the most self-absorbed people I've ever met."

"I'm self-absorbed?" Charlie asked.

"Yes," Kelly answered. "But I do have to thank you."

"For what?" Charlie asked.

"For helping me prove a theory I've been speculating about for several years now,"" Kelly replied.

"And what would that be?" Charlie asked.

"The smarter a person is," Kelly replied, "the more of a jacka-- they tend to be."

"If that's true, then what's your excuse?" Charlie asked.

"Okay, you two," Alan said as he got to his feet. He walked over, standing off to one side, feeling like a referee between two fighters. "Let's calm down before we get too upset."

Kelly glared at Charlie, ignoring Alan, feeling a mixture and anger in her gut. She wanted to belt Charlie for what he said, but she knew it would only serve to make her look like the bad guy. Besides, she had other, more important, things to get off her chest. "You want to think that about me, then fine," she said. "But let me tell you something, Charlie. At least I'm not completely blind to the outside world."

"I'm blind?" Charlie asked.

"You have this little bubble around you," Kelly said. "And you can't see anything but yourself and your math, which is really pathetic, because you can't step out of it for two seconds to see that, while you may be a mathematician, you are also – surprise, surprise – a human being! And guess what? Human beings make mistakes!"

"Okay, am I not here?" Alan asked.

"To them, no," Don replied. "They're on a roll."

"And furthermore," Kelly continued, "here's another concept that may be new to you: it's perfectly okay to admit that you've made a mistake – and not obsess over it all day."

"Oh, and you're Little Miss Perfect?" Charlie asked.

"I never said I was," Kelly replied. "But see, I have no problem admitting that; you do. Then again, I don't have the superiority complex you do." Charlie snorted. "'Oh, look at me, I graduated high school when I was nine. I went to Stanford, I went to MIT. I have top clearance at the NSA. I did this, I wrote that.' Well, whoopty freakin' do dah day!" She paused only to catch her breath, changing her tone and lowering her volume before she continued. "You should you be proud of what you do – I agree with that – but in the end you have to take a bigger perspective on everything. Either you realize that there's more out there than being perfect … or you're going to lead a very sad and lonely existence. I wouldn't trade anything for that, no matter how smart it would make me." She waited for a second before she calmly brushed past him, heading up the stairs; Paul wordlessly followed her, leaving the three Eppes men alone.

From his position on the couch Don's smile had been replaced with an expression of mixed emotions: stunned and slightly impressed. His gaze slowly panned from the staircase to where his brother and father were standing, trying to gauge their reactions. Alan's expression was the same as Don's, so the agent knew what he was feeling, but Charlie's face … Don couldn't read his brother's face, and part of Don became a little concerned.

"Charlie?" he asked slowly as he got to his feet. Please say something.

"Can you believe her?" Charlie said suddenly. Don and Alan raised their eyebrows. "I mean, who does she think she is saying that about me? She has no idea what kind of person I am, right?" He looked at his father.

Alan sighed. "Charlie, you know I'm always going to love you and be proud of you," he said gently, "but -"

Charlie sighed and turned to his brother. Surely his brother would agree with him. "Don?" he asked. Don was visibly torn. He loved his little brother and would go through hell to keep him safe, but at the same time Kelly had made some good points. Charlie chuckled mirthlessly. "I don't believe this. Now my own family is against me."

"Charlie, we're not against you," Alan replied.

"You're siding with her," Charlie accused, looking hurt.

"No, we're not," Don said. "Charlie, believe it or not, we understand why you're upset at her butting in; it was wrong."

"But?" Charlie asked, folding his arms.

"But do you honestly think she did it out of malice?" Alan asked. "Do you think that she wanted to intentionally show you up and make you feel stupid?"

Charlie sighed and dropped his gaze, still frowning, knowing the answer. "No," he mumbled.

"Okay," Alan replied. "Then may I ask why you felt so compelled to prove that she was wrong?"

"Because she's not supposed to be good at math!" Charlie blurted out, even before he realized what he was actually saying. "She said she hated it!"

Alan and Don glanced at each other. Bingo. Alan put a hand on Charlie's shoulder as his son looked on the verge of tears. "Charlie," he said softly, "is it really that important that you have to better at math than everyone?"

"Math is my thing," Charlie said softly. "It's my life. If I lose that -"

"Then you still have us," Don interrupted gently. He sighed and walked over to join his father and brother.

Charlie snorted. "You're only saying that because I'm smart," he replied, slightly bitter. "If I wasn't a genius, then you'd want nothing to do with me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Don said. "Charlie, that's not true. Come on, I'm your brother. We're family; all three of us. And that means we stick together … no matter how smart or dumb we are, because that doesn't matter. All that matters is we're family." He put a hand on Charlie's other shoulder. "Besides, Mom swore that if I ever let anyone tear you down like that, she'd take me apart, even if she had to get up out of her grave to do it, and you know how good that would smell. Especially when you've just had the rugs cleaned. So work with me here, kid."

Charlie looked up at his brother, wondering if Don was lying to him, but he could see in his brother's eyes nothing but truth; his father had the same expression in his eyes, and Charlie felt a little relief, knowing that he had people to turn to … then he remembered Kelly, and the things he said to her, what he did to her … and the awful feeling in his stomach returned. He took a ragged breath. "I screwed up, didn't I?" he asked softly.

"Well, I think challenging her wasn't the brightest move," Don replied wryly. "Even I knew that." Charlie looked a little embarrassed.

"Charlie," Alan said, "I think the best thing to do would be to talk with her; let her know what was really bothering you."

"Yeah, like she's going to listen to me now," Charlie muttered.

"You'd be surprised," Alan replied. He squeezed Charlie's shoulder. "She had the same concern when she was working on my car."

"She worked on your car?" Charlie asked. Alan nodded. "Well, that explains the oil."

Alan smiled. "Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes," he said.

Charlie nodded and glanced at the staircase. He sighed and slowly headed for them, feeling like he was marching to his execution as he trudged upstairs. He paused briefly at the top when he saw Paul standing in front of his bedroom door. The agent's arms were folded, and when he saw Charlie he glared at the young man. Charlie knew he deserved that, and he sighed.

"Look, before you say anything," Charlie said, "I want to say something in my defense." Paul waited. "I was wrong." He sighed. "I just want to talk to her."

Paul didn't say anything for a few minutes, then nodded curtly. As Charlie passed him, Paul grabbed his arm and leaned in really close. "Watch yourself around her," he warned.

Charlie fought the urge to get in the agent's face and tell him off; he simply nodded, and Paul let him go. Charlie took a deep breath and walked down the hall until he came to Kelly's door. He hesitated before knocking softly. There was no response. He knocked again. Nothing. Feeling a little worried, Charlie slowly turned the knob … and opened the door, looking inside.

Kelly stood next to the dresser, pulling garments from open drawers and taking them over to the bed, where she tossed them into her open suitcase before going back to the dresser. He couldn't see her face very well, but he could hear the small sniffles mingled with an occasional hiccup.

Charlie stood in the doorway, stunned; he had made her cry. "Kelly?" he asked softly. Kelly stopped and looked up, and Charlie could see her red eyes.

"What do you want now?" she asked, frowning.

"What are you doing?" Charlie asked.

"I'm leaving," Kelly replied. "Isn't that what you want? For me to stay out of your life?" She went back to stuffing clothes into her luggage.

Charlie sighed as he walked into the room and closed the door behind him. "Look, about that … I was -"

"You know, I didn't have a choice about coming out here," Kelly interrupted. "I was made to. We both know that things would be better off if I wasn't here, so I'm leaving." Charlie sighed, frustrated. He walked over and sat right on her luggage as she came back over with a load of clothes; she frowned. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to apologize," Charlie said. "So, please shut up for a second and let me talk." He froze, suddenly feeling silk in his hands as he sat on the bed. His eyes slowly widened as he realized he was sitting right on her … unmentionables. He tried to get to his feet and get away from them, but he slipped and lost his balance, falling off the bed and taking the luggage bag with him as he crashed to the floor.

Kelly raised and eyebrow as she put the clothes in her arms on the bed, then leaned over. Charlie sat on the floor, dazed; a bright orange bra with lace near the top and a little bow between the cups dangled from one of his ears. He slowly blinked repeatedly.

"Are you okay?" Kelly asked slowly.

Charlie held one finger in the air. "'m alright," he said woozily. In spite of everything, Kelly smiled a little. She walked over and knelt beside Charlie, delicately plucking the bra off his ear. "Uh... what's with...?"

"Oh, that?" Kelly asked. "Well, this is my extra special bra for when I wanna feel all femi-niiine." She chuckled as Charlie winced, then her smile faded. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Charlie said.

Kelly nodded. "Well, I need to finish packing." She started to get up, but Charlie grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"Don't," he whispered. He locked eyes with hers – and he couldn't bring himself to look away. He saw a mixture of fire and sadness in her eyes … the same look he saw when they sat in the noodle house.

"'Don't' what?" Kelly asked.

"Don't go," Charlie said.

"Why shouldn't I?" Kelly asked. "You don't want me here; you've made that abundantly clear." Charlie opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly the bedroom door flew open and Paul, Alan, and Don rushed in.

Paul looked around, concerned. "Is everyone -" He stopped short when he saw Charlie and Kelly on the floor – among her undergarments. Alan and Don raised their eyebrows. "What is going on here?"

"Charlie made a bet that we didn't have the same bra size," Kelly replied.

"What!" Charlie replied, letting go of her and scooting back on his rump. "I said no such thing!"

"He won," Kelly continued. "He's a C-cup." Charlie's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "But we're fine, don't worry." She gave them a look, begging them to leave. Alan and Don understood and slowly backed out, but Paul wasn't convinced.

"What's really going on?" he asked.

"Paul, scram," Kelly said firmly. Paul raised an eyebrow, but he reluctantly left the room, closing the door behind him. Kelly turned Charlie, who eyed her warily. "You gonna come back over here?"

"Why did you do that?" Charlie asked, staying put.

"That was for calling me a jacka--," Kelly answered.

"You called me one first," Charlie retorted.

"You were acting like one," Kelly countered.

"So were you," Charlie replied. He stopped himself and took a deep breath. "But … I guess I can't blame you; I wasn't being very nice."

"No, you weren't," Kelly said. She softened her expression and dropped her voice. "And I don't get it … is it really that important to you?"

"I … it's my life," Charlie said softly. "But it's …." He sighed as he trailed off.

Kelly scooted over to him and put an arm around his shoulder. "About what I said," she said softly. "I'm sorry. I tend to get a little too … vocal when I'm mad."

"Just a little," Charlie replied, wryly. He gave her a small smile. "You were right. I was too obsessive."

"But I shouldn't have butted in," Kelly said. "I'm sorry for that."

"You were just trying to help," Charlie replied. "I … I can see that now." He took a deep breath. "I don't want you to leave."

"I don't want to leave either," Kelly said softly. She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to figure out why she felt that way … weird.

"Then don't," Charlie replied. "I'll be good; I promise."

Kelly chuckled and shook her head. "Don't make a promise you can't keep," she joked.

"You don't think I can be good?" Charlie asked.

"You nearly got thrown into federal prison a few days ago," Kelly said. "After threatening to beat up some Secret Service agents … that say anything about you?"

"Oh, and I'm sure you're a perfect angel," Charlie replied, smiling.

"I'm a fallen angel," Kelly smirked. She removed her arm and got to her feet; she went about picking up her clothes.

"Well, then maybe someone needs to pick you up," Charlie said softly as he watched her. His eyes widened when he realized what he said, and he couldn't believe he just said that. He glanced up at Kelly and hoped she hadn't heard it; she appeared lost in her chore, and Charlie said a silent thank you. He sighed and got to his feet, glancing around uncomfortably. Articles of clothing – her undergarments - were all over her floor; he winced.

Kelly dumped the contents in her arms on the bed, then glanced at Charlie; she smiled at his expression. "Oh, grow up," she said. "It's just underwear."

"Look, if you don't need me anymore, I'm going to go downstairs now," Charlie said, scooting over toward the door.

"Hold it right there, buster," Kelly said, pointing a finger at him. Charlie stopped in his tracks, and Kelly walked over to him. She smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek, and Charlie relaxed, smiling a little. Suddenly, Kelly threw her arms around him and hugged him tight, getting oil all over his clothes and face. After a few moments she pulled away, smirking. "Now, you can go."

"You little …," Charlie replied, but he couldn't finish his remark as Kelly quickly opened the door and gently shoved him out.

"See you downstairs, Charlie," she said before shutting the door in his face; she grinned as she locked it.

"Kelly, I'm covered in oil!" Charlie protested.

Kelly giggled as she hurried into the bathroom and locked all the doors leading to it, save for her door. She snickered as she heard the doorknobs rattling and Charlie shouting threats as he pounded on the doors. She wasn't mad at him – but she wasn't going to let him off easily. Besides, she wanted first dibs on the hot water. She smiled as she went back to picking up the rest of her clothes.

**Balladeer: Now, Kelly may look like an angel … but she still acts like a little devil.**

(End of Chapter 8)


	9. Chapter 9

- - - - 

"So, Kelly," Don said as he sat at the table with his father, brother, Paul, and Kelly.

"Yeah?" Kelly asked from her spot. She had gotten in a quick shower and changed into a loose-fitting gray Boar's Nest t-shirt and a pair of bright orange cotton pants; her damp hair was pulled back into a tight braid.

"How do you know so much about cars?" Don asked.

Kelly smiled. "You don't think a girl can work on cars, Don?" she asked.

"No," Don said quickly. "Just find it a little unusual."

"Well, I learned from my father," Kelly said as she cut some steak and put it in her mouth. "Before he got into politics he was the only mechanic in Hazzard."

"The Vice-President was a mechanic?" Alan asked.

"And a d--n good one," Kelly added. "The best mechanic ever. He taught me how to fix anything on four wheels. We even spent three years building my car from scratch – including the engine." Yes, she was mad at her father, but she still loved him and would defend him to anyone. She glanced at Charlie as he sat next to her, clean and dressed in a navy blue t-shirt and black sweat pants. His wet hair was slicked back, and he looked sullen as he moved food on his plate. "Are you still mad because I locked you out of the bathroom?"

"That is **my** bathroom," Charlie said. "**You** could have cleaned **your** room while **I** took a shower."

"Actually, **you** knocked **my** bag off the bed," Kelly said. "**You** should have cleaned my room while **I** took the shower."

"They were **your** clothes," Charlie shot back.

"Which **you **scattered when **you** fell off my bed because **you** freaked out when **you** touched my underwear," Kelly replied.

"I think **we** need to change the subject," Alan said, pointing his fork at Charlie and Kelly. He was amused at seeing his son getting flustered, but he was still a father, and he did not want to even hear that his son – innocently as it may have been - had been touching a girl's underwear, much less have that image in his head.

"But, Dad, she's being difficult!" Charlie protested. He knew Don was looking at him and grinning, so Charlie ignored him and hoped his father would come to his rescue; Alan did have more experience with women than Charlie. Just as Alan opened his mouth Kelly calmly grabbed the plastic ketchup bottle from the middle of the table and opened it; she leaned over and gently squirted a dollop of ketchup onto his nose; she grinned as he stared at the dollop with crossed eyes.

"There," she said as she put the bottle back on the table and went back to eating.

"Why … did … you … put … ketchup … on … my … nose?" Charlie asked.

"Got you to stop complaining," Kelly answered as she nibbled on a piece of steak.

Charlie narrowed his eyes as he took his napkin and wiped the ketchup from his nose; he put his napkin down, giving a forced smile. "Cute," he said. Kelly grinned and went back to eating. She didn't see Charlie grab the bottle and nonchalantly open it; he aimed it at her and squeezed; a large blob hit her smack dab on the cheek. Kelly froze, her fork in midair, and she slowly turned her head. Charlie grinned as he put the bottle back on the table and speared a piece of steak.

"You … you …," Kelly sputtered. She saw Alan and Don were turning red from trying not to laugh out loud; she looked over at Paul, and he was grinning from ear to ear. "Paul, he attacked me!"

"Actually, I ketchup-ed you," Charlie replied. He used a finger and turned Kelly's head until her cheek was facing him, and he used his steak and fork to delicately wipe the ketchup from her cheek; he popped the steak in his mouth and chewed with a smug smile on his face. "Mmmm, good."

"So, you want to play like that, huh?" Kelly said, smiling forcefully. She grabbed her spoon and studied her plate, then grinned as she scooped a large portion of her baked potato – stuffed with butter, cheese, sour cream, and Baco Bits – and aimed it right at Charlie's ear.

"Put the spoon down, and move away from my Charlie."

Kelly craned her neck to the side and saw Alan looking right at her. "But he squirted me," Kelly protested.

"Yes, but you squirted him first," Alan said.

"Thank you," Charlie smugly replied. He felt really good that his father was taking his side – and really good that his father was claiming him. He knew it was a little stupid to feel that way – he knew his father loved him. There was just something … reassuring about actually hearing it.

"Yes, I agree he deserved it," Alan continued. "I mean, he was complaining about something that he really shouldn't have complained about."

"Hey!" Charlie protested, his voice squeaking a little. "What happened to defending me?"

"Charlie, I love you, and I will defend you," Alan said, "but do you remember the last time you were involved in a food fight?" Charlie suddenly froze and paled, his mouth slightly open. Don snickered softly, and Alan pointed his fork at his other son. "You were involved too, Donny, so I wouldn't be snickering." Don stopped snickering as he froze.

"Dare I ask what happened?" Kelly replied. "And when this was?"

"Oh, they decided they wanted to have fun one night by throwing food," Alan replied. "Donny was fourteen and Charlie was six."

"Da-ad!" Don and Charlie squeaked, blushing furiously.

"They decided they wanted to throw food at each other," Alan continued. "So, they spent the night cleaning the dining room." He leaned forward, looking serious. "I would prefer to not have another food fight. Understand?" Kelly and Charlie slowly nodded. "Good. Now, let's finish dinner in a peaceful manner, okay?" The two nodded again, and everyone went back to eating in silence. Alan glanced at Charlie and Kelly as they continued to eat, and he smiled as he shook his head. _Yep_, he thought. _He likes her_.

- - - -

The grandfather clock struck nine-thirty, and the Eppes house was dimly lit as everyone settled in to their nightly routines. Charlie busied himself at the dining table, working on some equations, Don and Alan played chess in the living room, Paul sat in one of the chairs, reading his favorite John Grisham novel, and Kelly – being too restless to stay in one place – softly padded around, getting a better understanding of her new surroundings. She stopped in front of the collection of family photographs, smiling at the pictures of Charlie, Don, and Alan at various ages. A photo out of the corner of Kelly's eyes caught her attention, and the young woman stared at a framed black and white photo hanging on the wall underneath a soft yellow light. Kelly tilted her head and smiled, taking in every feature of the woman in photo, especially the fire hidden beneath the soft brown eyes; Kelly turned to Alan.

"Who is she?" she asked.

Everyone looked up when Kelly asked her question, and when the Eppes men saw which Kelly was looking at, their expressions visibly changed. Charlie's face grew sad, and he looked down at his papers, but he didn't go back to writing. Don became somber and quiet as he leaned back in his chair. Even Alan looked a little sad, but he put on a smile as he got up and walked over to her.

"That was my wife," he said, standing next to her.

"She passed away, didn't she?" Kelly asked softly, feeling bad for bringing up the subject.

"Yeah," Alan replied quietly. "Over a year ago, actually."

"I'm sorry," Kelly said. She lightly fingered the photo, then she quickly removed her hand, looking like she committed a grave sin.

Alan put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay," he said, smiling to reassure her. "I don't mind talking about her."

"May I ask how she died?" Kelly asked.

Alan took a deep breath. "It was cancer," he replied.

Kelly studied the photograph carefully. "What was she like?" she asked.

"Why do you want to know so much about my mother?" Charlie suddenly asked, looking up. He was trying not to get mad at Kelly, but it was really hard.

"Charles," Alan chided his son gently. He turned back to Kelly, who had this sad look in her eyes. "Kelly, it's okay."

"I just wanted to know what it was like to have a mother," Kelly replied softly. "I never had one."

"She died too?" Don asked from his spot.

"When I was ten months old," Kelly replied. "Actually, she was murdered … that's how Daddy got custody of me." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Look, I'm sorry I brought her up. I can drop it."

"No, it's okay," Charlie said. He felt bad for snapping at Kelly the way he did; he got up and walked over to her and his father. "I'm sorry ... I didn't know."

"Most people don't," Kelly said. "They know Daddy isn't married, but most people don't know the full story – and I don't want them to."

"Because you don't want to talk about it?" Don asked.

"Because I can't talk about it," Kelly replied. "I hardly know anything about her."

"Surely you father would know what she was like," Alan said.

"He and my mother only … knew each other for one day," Kelly replied slowly.

"Oh," Alan said, immediately understanding. "So, you don't know anything about her?"

"Well, I know a few things about her," Kelly said. "She liked to play chess, and she loved to cook." She shrugged. "Not much other than that. My grandparents and my father didn't really get along, so I could never talk to them about her." She smiled a little. "But Daddy says I look like her, especially with my eyes." She paused. "Um, could you excuse me for a moment?"

"Sure," Alan said.

"I'll be right back," she said to Paul, who had been watching the situation from his chair with interest. He nodded, and Kelly headed out of the living room and up the stairs.

"Poor kid," Don said. He heard a small 'thunk,' and everyone turned to see that Charlie had scooted back to the table – and he'd dropped his forehead onto it; Don became worried for his little brother. "Charlie?" Charlie moved and then slowly pulled himself back up and rubbed his face with both hands.

"Charlie, you okay?" Alan asked.

"Oh ... yeah ... just dandy ... Don, could you do me a quick favor?" he asked.

Don furrowed his eyebrows. "Uh... I guess, yeah ... what do you need?"

"Shoot me," Charlie said. "Now. In the head."

"Um … why?" Don asked, confused.

"Because it's statistically the most efficient way to keep me from opening my mouth and inserting the nearest foot locker outlet. Again."

"Charlie, you didn't know," Alan said. "No one's mad at you."

"Kelly hates me," Charlie replied.

"Um … and you know this how?" Kelly asked as she walked into the living room. She carried a hideously orange stuffed giraffe with faded blue and yellow polka dots in one hand, and a small gold chain and locket in the other. "Are you a telepath?"

"Well, no, but …," Charlie replied. "You're not mad at me?"

"No," Kelly said. She shrugged her shoulders. "It just sucks sometimes not having a mother … especially when I don't know what she was like in the first place." She walked over to the table and sat down beside Charlie. "But I do have a couple of things that help me remember her." She held up the stuffed animal and the necklace as Alan and Don came over, sitting across from Charlie and Kelly.

"First is Jeffery," Kelly said, indicating the stuffed giraffe. "I've had him practically all my life – and he's the only thing I got from my mother after she died that I still have … he's very special to me."

"Looks like you two have been through a lot," Don said, noticing the worn patches and faded spots.

"He's helped me through a lot of rough times," Kelly replied. "Having him around is almost like a part of her is with me." She looked almost embarrassed. "I know that sounds a little stupid."

"No, it doesn't," Alan said. He noticed the initials on the locket. "Hey, weren't you wearing that the night of the banquet?"

"Yep," Kelly replied, nodding.

"I was meaning to ask what the 'A' stood for," Alan said.

"Angelica," Kelly replied, smiling. "It's my middle name." She held up the locket. "Daddy gave this to me right after I graduated high school." She carefully opened the locket and handed it to Charlie. "That's what she looked like."

Charlie looked at the two pictures nestled on the inside. The picture on the left – a headshot of her father – first caught his attention. The photo had been taken when Cooter was younger: his hair was just starting to turn gray around the edges, and he wore a black cardigan sweater over a white dress shirt; his brown eyes sparkled with what Charlie recognized as fatherly love and warmth. The picture on the right was a headshot of a woman in a black sweater, with long copper red hair, and familiar green eyes that danced with a mischievous streak Charlie recognized all too well. He looked up at Kelly, smiling.

"You do look like her," he said. Kelly smiled and blushed a little, ducking her head.

"May we see?" Alan asked. Kelly nodded, and Charlie handed the locket to his father. Don leaned over as both he and Alan looked at the photos. They both smiled and looked up.

"Charlie's right," Alan said. "You look just like her."

"Thank you," Kelly said.

"Except for the hair," Don added. "I saw some earlier pictures of you with brown hair."

"Yeah," Kelly replied. "I decided to change it while Daddy and I were in Paris earlier this month; he wasn't too thrilled about it, but … I'm not changing it back." She sighed and leaned back in her chair, feeling extra fidgety. "Man, I am really bored."

"Do you want to play a game of chess?" Alan asked. "Donny and I are almost done."

"Not in the mood for chess," Kelly replied. "I really wish I had my car here."

"Well, even if it was," Paul spoke up, "you would not be driving it."

"Come on, Paul," Kelly said, smirking, "you've seen me drive."

"Exactly," Paul replied.

"Speeder?" Don asked, smiling.

"Speeder," Paul answered, "jumper … you name it, she does it."

"'Jumper?'" Alan asked.

"Last time I drove with Kelly," Paul replied, "she jumped a sixty-foot ridge." Everyone slowly turned to look at Kelly.

"What?" she asked. "I've done it before. Been doing it since I could drive."

"And you still have your license?" Charlie asked.

"Well, they're pretty cool with stuff in Hazzard," Kelly said. "Heck, there were days when the sheriff and I would race just for fun … when he wasn't throwing me in jail."

"You know, for some reason I'm not surprised that you've been thrown in jail," Don said, smirking.

"Don, if you only knew what kind of police record I have back home," Kelly replied, grinning.

"Yeah, she first got arrested when she was five," Paul spoke up. "She assaulted the sheriff – and the city commissioner."

Kelly grinned. "You should have read further, Paul. You missed the explosive charges when I was seven."

"Okay, you do realize you're talking to a couple of federal agents," Don said to Kelly.

"Agent Eppes," Paul said, "it's no use – you can't faze her with that threat; I've already tried it – many times."

Kelly smiled, then she suddenly yawned. "Hoh, sorry," she said. She smiled as her eyelids drooped slightly. "I think I'm still on D.C. time."

"Yeah, it's almost one o'clock there," Charlie replied.

"Why don't you go to bed?" Alan suggested as Kelly propped her head on her hand, her elbow resting on the table.

"I'm not tired," Kelly mumbled, barely awake. She sighed, closed her eyes, and shifted, leaning to the side, leaning against Charlie, resting her head against his shoulder. Charlie froze and looked to his father and brother for help; he couldn't believe they were grinning.

"What are you grinning about?" Charlie asked.

"Shhh," Alan said. "You'll wake her."

"Get her off of me," Charlie whispered.

"Now there's something I never thought I'd hear my brother say," Don whispered, grinning. Charlie narrowed his eyes, already calculating ways to get back at his older brother for that remark.

"I'll take her," Paul said as he came over. He carefully extracted Kelly from the chair and held her securely in his arms as he headed out of the dining room.

Charlie watched him take Kelly away, then heard his father clear his throat. He glanced over and saw Alan and his brother just staring at him. "What?" he asked. Don nodded his head at the stuffed giraffe and locket on the table before looking back at him expectantly. Charlie glanced at his father and received the same look. The mathematician knew what they wanted him to do, and he sighed as he took the items and stood up. He headed out of the dining room and followed Paul up the stairs and down the hall to Kelly's bedroom. He stopped just inside the door and watched as Paul walked over to Kelly's bed. He stood there studying the situation for a few seconds, then turned around.

"Hey, can you get the covers?" Paul asked Charlie softly.

"Yeah, sure," Charlie said. He walked over and pulled back the covers, then watched as Paul gently lay Kelly down, making sure her head rested on the pillows. Charlie stood back as Paul covered the young woman, and Charlie titled his head, watching her sleep. He smiled a little; she looked very peaceful like that.

Paul glanced at Charlie, and he saw how the young man was looking at Kelly. He leaned over. "Let's go," he whispered.

"Okay," Charlie said. He put the locket on the nightstand next to the lamp, and he was about to put Jeffery beside it, but he paused and glanced at Kelly.

"What are you doing?" Paul asked.

Charlie didn't answer as he carefully put Jeffery between Kelly's arms; he smiled as she snuggled with the stuffed animal in her sleep, then turned around and looked at Paul. "Just making sure she had what she needed," he said softly. "Goodnight, Agent." He brushed past Paul and left the room.

Paul turned back to Kelly, watching her sleep for a few seconds before sighing. "'Not her type,' my a--," he whispered before heading out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

**Balladeer: Paul … I agree with you one-hundred percent.**

(End of Chapter 9)


	10. Chapter 10

- - - - 

The next morning Kelly lay in her bed, snuggled next to Jeffery under her covers, eyes closed. She sighed as she stretched out and shifted a little, then settled against her pillows; she smiled with content. After a few moments …

POW!

The young woman was suddenly hit in the face with a plush gray pillow. Kelly shouted as her eyes shot open, and she looked around, her heart beating a mile a minute. She glanced up and saw Charlie standing next to her bed, dressed in jeans, a dark green hooded sweatshirt (with the hood off his head), and black Converse All-Stars. He held the gray pillow in his right hand and a basketball tucked under his left arm; he smiled down at her.

"Good morning, Bubbles," he said cheerfully. "The sun is shining, and it's a beautiful day."

Kelly glanced at the clock on her nightstand; she groaned when she saw it was only seven o'clock. "Let me sleep," she mumbled, burying herself under her covers.

"Not going to happen," Charlie replied as he pulled the covers off of her. "You owe me a game of basketball. Remember in the noodlehouse? You said you'd play a game with me."

"Can it wait?" Kelly asked, putting her pillow over her head.

"No, because I have a whole list of thing to do today," Charlie said, pulling the pillow off Kelly and tossing it aside. "Now, you are going to get out of bed and play basketball with me like you said you would." He playfully smacked her bottom. "Come on! Up and at 'em!"

Suddenly, Kelly sprung from the bed and threw herself at Charlie; the two went falling to the floor, the ball and pillow flying out of Charlie's grip, and Kelly pinned him to the floor, holding his wrists down and straddling him; she glared at him through sleepy eyes. "Do you have a death wish?" she growled.

Charlie's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "I was just trying to get you up," he wheezed, trying not to squirm in the position he and Kelly were in.

"What is going on in here?" Paul asked as he hurried in, still in his nightclothes, holding his gun. He stopped short when he saw Kelly and Charlie on the floor; he sighed and rolled his eyes. "You know, every time I come in here - you two are together on the floor."

"She tackled me," Charlie protested.

"Because he woke me up and smacked me on the butt," Kelly retorted.

Paul sighed. "Look, guys, it's early, and I'm tired. Do whatever you want; just don't kill each other." He turned and headed out, as Alan hurried in.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking into the room. He raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to know, do I?"

"Just a little misunderstanding," Paul said. "I'm going back to bed." He yawned and padded back to his room.

"Me too," Kelly said, getting off Charlie and heading back to her bed.

"You owe me a game," Charlie said, scrambling to his feet.

"No!" Kelly said as she tried to climb back into bed.

"Oh, no you don't," Charlie said. "After everything that happened yesterday you're playing with me right now." He grabbed her from behind, making sure to keep a tight grip on her as he tossed her over his left shoulder in a fireman's hold.

"Put me down!" Kelly protested as Charlie she started beating his back with her fists. Charlie calmly walked over to retrieve his basketball; he held both the ball and Kelly as he headed out of the room and down the hall. He smiled as he passed Paul and his father, whose expressions were a mix of surprise and amusement. "She owes me a game."

"He's kidnapping me!" Kelly protested.

"Wait just a second," Paul said sternly, holding up his hand.

"Thank you, Paul!" Kelly said, smiling, glad someone was going to come to her rescue.

Paul headed to Kelly's room and returned a few moments later with a pair of Kelly's tennis shoes. "Don't forget these," he said as he put them on her feet. "There, now she's ready."

"I'm going to kill you," Kelly growled to Paul as Charlie headed down the stairs.

"What is going on?" Don asked as he walked to the foot of the stairs. He stopped short and raised an eyebrow when he saw his brother coming down, carrying Kelly over his left shoulder and a basketball under his right arm. "Charlie, what are you doing?"

"Kelly owes me a game of basketball," Charlie replied.

"Don, I beg you, help me," Kelly said.

Don grinned. "Actually, I think this is something I need to stay out of," he said. He saw the look Kelly was giving him, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud.

"We'll be in after our game is over," Charlie replied. He headed into the living room to the back doors and shifted the ball into his other hand before opening the door and heading out. When the door closed Don broke into laughter as he headed over to the door and looked out; Alan and Paul joined him.

"What happened?" Don asked after he caught his breath.

"I don't know," Alan said, "but I can't wait to see how this turns out." They watched as Charlie struggled to get Kelly over to the basketball hoop set up over the garage, while Kelly kept hitting Charlie's back with her fists.

Paul brought his wrist to his mouth, speaking into the wristband. "Guys, be on alert. Liberty and Logarithm are having a discussion; do not get involved, trust me, they're okay."

"'Logarithm?'" Don asked.

"He's into math," Paul simply said. Alan and Don glanced at each other and shrugged before turning back to watching Kelly and Charlie.

"Put me down!" Kelly said angrily as they walked to the driveway.

"Stop hitting me," Charlie replied.

"Then put me down," Kelly retorted.

Charlie reached the driveway and set Kelly down. She immediately bolted, and Charlie dropped the basketball before chasing after her. He caught up with her and tackled her as she ran through the soft wet grass; they wrestled for a few moments, then Charlie managed to flip her over and pin her on her back, holding her wrists above her head, his knees on either side of her body.

"Look," he said, gasping for air, "you said you were going to play a game with me."

"Why now?" Kelly asked, breathing hard.

"Because I have things to do later," Charlie replied. "A lot of things."

"Will you stop bothering me if I play one game?" Kelly asked.

"Yes," Charlie answered.

"Fine," Kelly said. "I'll do it."

"Good," Charlie replied. The two just lay there, staring at each other.

"Why are you still on top of me?" Kelly asked after a few seconds passed.

Charlie paused. "I don't know," he said. He slowly let go of her and stood up, looking a little embarrassed. Kelly slowly sat up, propping her elbows on the dewy grass, not sure if she should move. When Charlie leaned over and offered his hand she reluctantly took it, and he hoisted her to her feet.

"You're going down," she simply said before brushing past him and heading back toward the driveway. Charlie hid a grin as he followed her, remembering a rule vital to mathematics: what you do to one side of the equation you do to the other side. If Kelly was going to get physical with him … he would gladly reciprocate.

**Balladeer: Ya know … it's nice to see that someone is finally turnin' the tables on Kelly … and it seems that Charlie's kinda enjoyin' it too … better keep an eye on him.**

- - - -

Kelly was hot and sweaty, panting hard as she trudged into the house; Charlie walked in behind her, small beads of sweat on his forehead, a smug look on his face and his basketball tucked under his right arm. The two saw Alan sitting at the table, enjoying a cup of coffee as he read the morning newspaper; Don sat beside him, eating breakfast, fully dressed. Paul was standing in the living room near the back window, watching Kelly and Charlie with an amused smile.

"Have fun?" he asked. Truth be told, he had been watching them the entire time; he had seen Charlie annihilate Kelly during their game … Kelly hadn't even managed to get one basket. Usually, Paul wouldn't be so amused, but he knew that Kelly really needed to get put in her place – and it was refreshing to see someone other than himself and her father do it for a change. Kelly just growled as she trudged into the kitchen to get some coffee.

"So, how was the game?" Alan asked as Charlie plopped down in his chair at the dining table.

"It was fun," Charlie replied, grinning.

"I hate basketball!" Kelly shouted from the kitchen.

"So, did she really say she was going to play a game with you?" Don asked.

"Yep," Charlie answered, his grin spreading.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Don asked, smiling.

"Hey, I can dish it just as well as she can," Charlie replied, taking the basketball and spinning it on his finger.

"Bite me, Charlie!" Kelly shouted.

"Hey, Kelly," Alan said loudly, "it might cheer you up to know that the reporter who wrote that article yesterday printed a retraction today."

There was a pause. "Really?" she asked.

"Yep," Alan said, paraphrasing the article. "He said that none of what he said was true, and he apologizes to you, your father, Charlie, and Charlie's family for everything."

"Wow," Charlie replied. "Wonder what got him to change his mind?"

"Not sure," Alan said as he glanced at Don.

Don ate one last bite off his plate and got to his feet. "Well, I got work today," he said. "Have a great day, you two." He glanced over at the kitchen. "Have a good day, Shorty!" He heard a small growl, and he smiled. "Bye, guys."

"Have a good day," Alan said.

"Bye, Don," Charlie replied. Don smiled and headed out of the dining room. They heard the front door open and close. Alan went back to his reading, and Charlie put his ball aside and grabbed Don's plate and fork, picking at and eating the leftover food.

Paul stuck his head in the dining room. "I'm going to go get dressed," he replied. "I'll be right back." He left the dining room. Alan and Charlie continued reading and eating respectively for a few minutes, then –

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!"

Charlie and Alan looked up when they heard Kelly's ear-piercing shriek, and they jumped from their seats and hurried to kitchen. Charlie reached it first and ran in; he saw Kelly standing in front of the sink, the faucet in her hand. The young woman tried to shield herself as water spewed from the broken pipe, soaking her and everything in the nearby vicinity.

"Turn it off!" Charlie shouted as he hurried over. He didn't watch where he was going, and his feet made contact with the growing water puddle on the floor; he slipped and fell forward, slamming into Kelly – hard. The two tumbled and fell to the floor. They lay on the floor – Kelly on her back, and Charlie on top of her - stunned.

"Ow," Kelly said, groaning softly. She rubbed the spot on her head where she hit it on the floor, then she noticed Charlie on top of her, dripping wet and looking dazed as water rained down on them. Charlie looked around, then he locked eyes with her – and they just stared at each other.

"Someone turn the blasted water off!" Alan shouted from his spot near the entrance, shaking the two out of their stupor. They two scrambled into sitting positions and opened the cabinet doors under the seat. They both reached for the valve to turn the water off, and they fumbled for it; Charlie finally managed to turn it off. The water stopped flowing from the broken pipe. Charlie and Kelly sighed with relief as they leaned against the island, completely soaked, as water dripped from everything in the vicinity of the sink.

Alan made his way over, taking slow and careful steps to avoid slipping, until he stood next to Kelly and Charlie; he looked down at them. "Are you two okay?" he asked.

"I think I'm going to have a bump," Kelly said, rubbing her head, glancing at Charlie. She elbowed him playfully in the ribs, and he gave her a sheepish smile.

"Sorry," he said. He glanced up at his father. "Yeah, I think we're fine. A little water-logged … but fine."

"What on earth happened?" Everyone looked over and saw Paul – dressed for the day - slowly walking into the kitchen, looking around, trying to figure out if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

"I was turning on the faucet to rinse my spoon off," Kelly explained. "and I turned on the cold water … and the thing popped off."

"It didn't hit you, did it?" Alan asked.

"No, I'm fine," Kelly replied. "Just got a little water in my ears." She sighed and looked around. "Well, I guess I know what I'll be doing today."

"I'll fix the sink," Charlie said.

"No, I'll do it," Kelly said. "You have other things to do. I can fix a sink … I've done it before."

"You know how to fix a sink?" Charlie asked.

"I can fix a lot of things around the house," Kelly replied. "Daddy and I didn't have much money when we lived in Hazzard, so we learned how to fix things to save money." She carefully got to her feet. "I'll take care of the sink."

"But it's my sink," Charlie said as he scrambled to his feet, his shoes squishing.

"Charlie, I'm fixing the sink," Kelly said. "Do your other work."

"My 'other work' is doing house repairs today," Charlie replied. "It's my day off."

"Then just stay out of my way," Kelly said, folding her arms. She took the broken faucet and carefully brushed past Charlie and Alan, handing it to Paul. "Paul, can you get one of the guys to go to the store and get a replacement faucet?" She turned to Alan and Charlie. "Do you have an Allen wrench, a Phillips-head and a flat-head, needle-nose and slip-joint pliers?"

"Yeah, we do," Alan replied. "Got them in my tool kit in the garage. Got pretty much every tool you can think of – and then some."

Kelly smiled and turned back to Paul. "Also, get some packing grease, some O-rings, springs, a diverter, and a stainless steel ball," she said. "If they have any questions, just have them ask someone at the store for help. I'm going to go change into some drier clothes." She left the kitchen, her shoes squishing on the hardwood floor. Charlie stared at where she was, blinking, his mouth slightly open. Alan clapped him on the back and smiled.

"Why don't you do the same?" Alan suggested. "You have a lot of work to do today."

"I can't believe she's going to fix my sink," Charlie said.

"Charlie, you have the furnace and the roof to fix, among other things," Alan replied. "Let her fix the sink." Suddenly, they heard the front door open.

"Paul!" an agent shouted.

"Excuse me," Paul said. He left the kitchen and headed to the front door. In the entryway two agents flanked a small man with reddish brown curly hair and brown eyes, wearing an olive green shirt, brown slacks, and brown loafers. He looked a little confused and out of place as he stood with the two agents, trying not to make any moves that could set them off.

"What's going on?" Paul asked. He recognized the man from the background checks he had been given a few days ago. "Dr. Larry Fleindhart, I presume?"

"Yes, that would be correct," Larry said. "Um, is there a problem?"

"Depends," Paul answered. "Why are you here?"

Larry sighed. "I'm here to see my friend -"

"Larry," Charlie said as he hurried over, still dripping, shoes squishing; Alan was behind him.

"Charles, what on earth happened to you?" Larry asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Did you fall into the pond again?" He sniffed the air. "No, if you did then you'd smell like koi."

"The kitchen sink exploded," Charlie replied.

Larry raised an eyebrow. "How did the sink explode?" he asked.

"I'm still trying to figure that one out," Charlie said. "And why are you here? It's my day off."

"Well, I was just dropping by to see if you were feeling any better today than yesterday," Larry replied. "Especially after the way you were yelling about Miss Davenport."

"What did he say about her?" Paul asked, folding his arms, frowning at Charlie.

"Yeah, what did he say about me?" Kelly asked as she came down the stairs, smiling as she used a towel to dry her hair. She had changed into a pair of grey sweatpants, a large black t-shirt, and a pair of blue toe socks with little angels over them; she stopped at the foot of the stairs, taking in everyone around her. "What's going on?"

"Just making sure everything's okay," Paul answered. He eyed Charlie. "I would also be really interested in what Dr. Eppes said about you." Charlie looked a little nervous.

"Look, why don't you go get dressed first?" Kelly suggested. "Then we can find out exactly what was said and take appropriate action." She turned to Charlie, putting her damp towel over his head and ruffling his hair. "You too, Charlie; don't want you catching a cold or anything." She smiled warmly, letting him know that he wasn't in trouble, but her eyes danced with mischief, letting him know that she would make him squirm if he said anything she didn't like.

Charlie smiled sheepishly, then turned to head up the stairs. When he passed Kelly she swiftly smacked his bottom. Charlie stiffened and turned to look at her with wide eyes. "That's for smacking me this morning," she replied, smiling. Charlie didn't say anything, but he blushed as he scurried up the stairs. Alan had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud, but he promised himself to have a word with Kelly later about that.

"I'll be down in a few minutes," Paul replied. He pointed a finger at Kelly as she raised her hand to smack him when he passed her. "Don't even think about it." Kelly dropped her hand, grinning as he brushed past her and headed up the stairs.

Kelly turned back to look at everyone. The two agents didn't know what to make of anything, Alan had an eyebrow raised, and the newcomer … well, he looked like he had entered a completely new dimension. "Hi," she said to him, holding out a hand. "And you are?"

"Uh, Fleinhardt," Larry said slowly as he cautiously shook her hand. "Dr. Larry Fleinhardt."

"Larry?" Kelly said, tilting her head. "The same Larry who brought Charlie home after he got drunk at the New Year's party?"

"Uh … yeah," Larry replied. "That – that would be me … you must be Kelly Davenport."

"Yep, that's me," Kelly said, grinning.

Larry raised an eyebrow as he studied her. Normal clothes, normal – if wet - hair, pretty face, roughly as tall as him but nothing really out of the ordinary … except for her behavior; Larry could see why Charlie would consider her an anomaly, but other than that …. This is the girl Charles was mad at yesterday? "Wow," he said.

"What?" Kelly asked, folding her arms, smiling.

"You're just … different than your photo," Larry replied quickly.

"It's the nose, right?" Kelly asked worriedly, feeling her nose like there was something wrong with it. "I always have this really tiny nose, but they say the camera adds ten pounds, so maybe that's it." She suddenly stopped and grinned. "Just kidding. So, Dr. Fleinhardt, do you work at CalSci too?"

"Yes, I do," Larry replied.

"Are you a mathematician too?" Kelly asked.

"Oh, see, now you've insulted him," Charlie said, smiling as he came down the stairs. He had changed into a new pair of black sweatpants and a baggy black t-shirt; his hair was a little drier but still damp; he held a piece of paper in his hand.

"Really?" Kelly asked, smiling. "So, if he's not a mathematician, then what is he?"

"He's a Capricorn," Charlie replied, grinning.

"That's funny, Charles," Larry said; he turned to Kelly. "I happen to be a Professor of Physics, Miss Davenport."

"Ah, Physics," Kelly said, nodding. "Not a bad subject. Great for calculating trajectories of ridge jumps." She grinned at Charlie, and he chuckled.

"Did I miss something?" Larry asked.

"Just a little car talk," Kelly replied.

"You like cars?" Larry asked.

Charlie put a hand on Kelly's shoulder. "Larry, I think you can safely say that this girl here knows -"

"'Girl?'" Kelly interrupted, folding her arms and looking at Charlie.

"Woman," Charlie corrected himself quickly. "She knows cars. You two should talk about cars. Meanwhile, I have things that I need to do." He took his hand off Kelly and tried to scoot away as quickly as possible, but Kelly grabbed the back of his shirt, keeping him from leaving.

"We'll talk about cars after we talk about what you said about me," Kelly said, smiling as she held him tightly.

"I can agree to that," Paul said as he came down, wearing a navy blue shirt with a black sports jacket over it, jeans, and black running shoes; he held the broken faucet in his hand.

"Crap," Charlie muttered.

"Okay, guys," Paul said to the two agents. "John, you can return to your post. Gil, I need you to run to the hardware store." He tossed the faucet to Gil, who expertly caught it. "Get a replacement faucet, some packing grease, O-rings, springs, a diverter, and a stainless steel ball."

"Another run to the hardware store?" Gil groaned. "I'm a Secret Service agent, not an errand boy."

"I'll pay you back, Gil," Kelly said. "Just add it to my tab."

"I think your tab's running a bit high already," Gil muttered as he and John headed out the front door, closing it behind them.

"Okay," Kelly said, gripping his shirt tighter. "Couch, Dr. Eppes. Dr. Fleinhardt, would you care to join us?" She firmly pulled Charlie by his shirt into the living room with Paul, Alan, and Larry following.

"Dad, make her stop," Charlie replied. Kelly gently pushed him onto the couch before sitting next to him.

"No, I want to hear this," Alan said, smiling as he sat down in one of the chairs near the couch. Larry took the other couch, and Paul stood nearby, folding his arms and watching Charlie.

"So, talk," Kelly said, propping an arm on the back of the couch as she faced Charlie. "What did you say about me?"

"I … said … nothing, really," Charlie replied slowly.

"Uh huh," Kelly said, smiling. She glanced at Larry. "Dr. Fleinhardt?"

"Please, call me Larry," Larry said.

"And you can call me Kelly," the young woman replied. "Now, what did Charlie say about me?"

Larry pursed his lips. He could see that Charlie and Kelly had reached a balance, and the last thing Larry wanted do to was upset that balance. Besides, regardless of what Charlie said, Larry could see a spark between them … even if Charlie couldn't. That made it more tempting to help with the interplay between the two – and Larry was too weak to resist.

"Well, he said you wore a 'blue and orange nightmare,'" he replied.

Charlie stared at his friend. "Larry, please that's okay," he said, smiling nervously.

"No, no, I think your guest deserves to know what her host thinks of her." Larry looked back at Kelly. "He said the zeros and ones all over it made it look like a 'stupid binary program.'"

Kelly glanced briefly at Charlie, smiling at his nervousness. "Really?" She looked back at Larry. "Anything else?"

"Well, then he called you a big anomaly," Larry replied.

"An anomaly?" Kelly asked.

"That would be the equivalent of calling someone an 'oddball,'" Larry explained.

"Ah," Kelly said. She smirked at Charlie. "So, I'm a freak." Charlie sunk low into the couch. "Eh, it's okay, Charlie. I've been called a helluva lot worse."

Charlie looked relieved as he sat up a little straighter – then he was promptly whapped across the face with one of the couch pillows. He sputtered for a moment before looking over and seeing Kelly holding the couch pillow and grinning. "What was that for?" he asked.

"Now we're even," she said. She put the pillow back in its place behind her and leaned back.

"He hit you with a pillow too, huh?" Larry guessed.

"That's how he woke me up this morning," Kelly replied. "Before dragging me out of bed and carrying me over his shoulder to the driveway and then tackling me to play a game of basketball."

"Hey, you tackled me in your bedroom," Charlie retorted.

Larry raised an eyebrow at his young friend. If half of what Kelly had said was even remotely true, then … well, that would be the first time he had heard of Charlie ever getting physical with a girl – period; he made a mental note to ask Charlie about that later on. "I think I'm going to leave that alone," Larry said to Alan.

"I think that would be wise," Alan replied. He turned to Kelly. "Kelly, why don't you talk to Larry about cars? Seems you two share the same hobby."

"So, you like cars, huh?" Kelly asked Larry.

"Well, I find them aesthetically pleasing," Larry replied.

"Ah, you're a collector," Kelly said, smiling. "That's cool."

"You don't collect?" Larry asked.

"I drive," Kelly replied. "And I work on them."

"Yeah, she fixed my car yesterday," Alan said. "Saved me three hundred dollars in repairs."

Kelly smiled, blushing. "So, Larry, what cars do you collect?" she asked.

"Right now, I only have one," Larry said. "It's a yellow '55 two-door Chevy Belaire, but I'm looking around for another one."

"To keep in the garage," Charlie added, smiling.

"Some people are quite satisfied with things that are aesthetically pleasing, Charles," Larry said.

"See, I don't get that," Charlie replied. "Cars were made to be driven." He turned to Kelly. "What do you think, Kelly?"

"Well, personally, I love driving," Kelly said. "Especially in my baby."

"What kind of car do you have?" Larry asked.

"Ford Mustang," Kelly replied. "My daddy and I spent three years putting her together from scratch – including the engine." She smiled as she leaned back, remembering every detail of her car. "428 cubic-inch supercharged engine with 390 horsepower, fifteen-inch Yokahama All Season tires with vintage Torq-Thrust hubcaps." She sighed. "Man, I miss her." She suddenly looked over at Larry and grinned. "So, Larry, what kind of engine do you have in your -"

"Don't even think about it," Paul interrupted.

"But I was just -"

"No," Paul said firmly.

"But -"

"No," Paul replied, more firmly. "I am under strict orders not to let you drive – period."

"Fine," Kelly said, folding her arms. "Just because I have a flair for the dramatic doesn't mean you have to get your shorts in a bind."

"Need I remind you that you stole your father's limo?" Paul asked.

"I didn't steal it," Kelly replied. "Daddy just told me to stay in it; he didn't say where the limo had to be." Paul narrowed his eyes at her. "Okay, okay, I won't drive; I'll let you and your minions chauffeur me around – assuming I can ever leave the house." She glanced at the others and saw them staring at her with eyes slightly wide. "What?"

"You stole your father's limo?" Charlie asked.

"It was my limo," Kelly replied. "And I didn't steal it. Besides, Daddy stole the President's limo once."

"He stole the President's limo?" Alan asked, eyes wide.

"It was a long time ago," Kelly answered. "Before I was born; Carter's limo."

"Maybe we better change the subject," Alan said. "And talk about what our agendas are for the day."

"Well, I got the sink to fix …," Kelly said. She shrugged. "That's about it."

"And I have my list of stuff to do," Charlie said, holding up a piece of paper.

"Chore list?" Kelly asked.

"Yep," Charlie replied. "The furnace, the roof … lots of stuff."

Kelly took the paper from his hand and skimmed it. "Hey, I could help out with some of these."

"That's okay," Charlie replied, taking the paper back. "I can do it."

"Fine," Kelly said, smirking. "I'll let you be the 'man' of the house."

"Cute," Charlie said.

"Mark off 'feed the koi' from your list," Kelly said.

"What part of 'I can do it' don't you understand?" Charlie asked.

"Alan, where's the koi food?" Kelly asked.

"It's under the sink," Larry replied. "Big yellow plastic can. Can't miss it."

"Ha!" Charlie said. "You can't get to it; the floor's still wet."

"Watch me," Kelly said, bolting for the kitchen.

"Oh, no you don't," Charlie said, scrambling to his feet and chasing after her. Larry, Alan, and Paul just listened as they heard the two running around in the kitchen.

"I told you I'm going to do it!"

"And I said I can do – will you stand still?"

"I'm going to feed the fish, okay!"

"It's my list! Let me – hey, don't you dare hit me with that – Ow!"

Suddenly Kelly shot out of the kitchen with the can of koi food in her hand; she ran to the back door and threw it open, running out with Charlie close on her heels. The three heard shouting and shrieking, then –

SPLASH!

Alan, Larry, and Paul scrambled to their feet and hurried over, looking out the back door. They saw Charlie and Kelly sitting right smack dab in the middle of the koi pond – dazed expressions on their faces, dripping wet from head to toe. Alan couldn't help but laugh out loud, and even Paul was amused, but Larry slowly tilted his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows.

"You know," he said slowly, "I was planning on spending the day hiking, but I think I might stick around here instead … seems much more interesting."

Balladeer: Well, that Larry fella has quite a knack for statin' the obvious. I have a feelin' things are gonna get real interestin' real soon.

(End of Chapter 10)


	11. Chapter 11

- - - - 

After changing – again (this time into a pair of jeans, a white sleeveless undershirt, and work boots) - Charlie stood on the roof of the house, a pile of shingles a hammer, some shingles nails, and a pair of work gloves at his feet. A harness was strapped around his waist, connected to a nylon rope about twenty feet long; the other end of the rope was securely tied around the chimney. He put the gloves on and turned to grab the hammer.

"Charlie?"

Charlie carefully walked over to the edge of the roof and leaned over. He saw his father standing on the porch below, looking up at him. "Yeah, Dad?" he asked.

"Before you start on the roof, could you give me a hand with something in the garage?" Alan asked.

"Sure," Charlie replied. He carefully took off the harness and made his way over to the long ladder leaning against the house. He climbed down and followed his father to the garage.

Kelly came out of the back door, looking around. She had showered and changed into an orange tank top (for spite), powder blue jeans, and old cross trainers. She glanced around, looking for Charlie. Gil had returned with her supplies, and she was in the middle of fixing the sink, but she wanted to ask Charlie a question. She saw the ladder leaning against the house, and she raised an eyebrow before smiling.

**Balladeer: Oh, Kelly … don't do it.**

Kelly carefully climbed the ladder to the top and looked around; no sign of Charlie, but the view was amazing. The young woman climbed onto the roof and stood tall, taking in the view around her. She could see Los Angeles in the near distance, and she smiled. The city looked really nice – even if it was covered in a thin film of haze.

"Kelly!"

Kelly turned her head and leaned over slightly, seeing Paul standing on the ground, looking up and frowning. "Hi, Paul," she said, waving.

"Get off that roof now!" he shouted angrily. Kelly saw Charlie and Alan hurry over from the garage, looking up. Larry heard the commotion from inside the house and came running outside.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking up. He saw Kelly on the roof. "What is she doing up there?"

"I have no idea," Charlie said. "Kelly, what are you doing up there?"

"Taking in the lovely view?" Kelly asked.

"Get off!" Paul shouted.

"Okay, okay," Kelly replied. "I'm coming down." She walked to the ladder, but her foot bumped the pile of shingles, causing her to stumble forward.

The four men's eyes widened in horror, and their stomachs turned to ice as they saw Kelly fall forward, grabbing the harness as she landed near the edge of the roof. But physics – and gravity – were against her. Kelly tumbled over the edge of the roof, holding tightly to the harness.

"No!" Charlie shouted, his heart skipping a beat.

Kelly held on for dear life, bracing herself for impact, when the nylon rope grew taut, stretching a little under the tension. The sudden stop caused Kelly to swing toward the house – and she slammed right through one of the solarium windows.

Paul wasted no time as he bolted into the house with Charlie, Alan, and Larry following close behind, rushing through the living room. They reached the stairs just as Gil and John came running through the back door, guns drawn.

"What happened?" John asked.

"Just had an accident," Paul said. "Go back outside and secure the area." Gil and John did what they were ordered to and headed back outside as the four men ran up the stairs. Years of practice became second nature to the agent as he opened the door to the solarium; he hurried into the room and skittered to a halt, and the three men behind him barely stopped in time.

Kelly lay on her side on the floor, shards of glass around and under her. She clutched the harness tightly and didn't move. Paul hurried over to her and knelt beside her, glancing around. Jagged shards of glass were in still in the pane she had crashed through; thankfully nothing else had been damaged, except for an overturned whicker chair that had been under the window. While Charlie and Larry stayed near the door Paul and Alan ventured over and knelt beside the young woman.

"Kelly?" Paul said gently as he carefully helped the young woman into a sitting position; he looked her over for injuries. She looked stunned as she stared at a point to her side. She had a few scratches on her face and arms, and Paul could even slivers still in her skin. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Kelly replied softly, dazed. "I'm … fine."

"Does anything feel broken?" Paul asked.

"No," Kelly answered. "I … I'm fine."

Alan raised an eyebrow as he saw the harness, and Kelly's hand gripping it tightly to the point where her knuckles were white. "Honey, you can let go of the harness now," he said softly.

"No, no, that's okay," Kelly replied. "I got it."

Alan gently took Kelly's hands and carefully pried them from the harness – and then he sucked in his breath when he saw the rope burns on her fingers and palms. He glanced at Kelly, wondering if she was in too much of a shock to feel any pain, and she looked almost relaxed. He looked at Paul and raised an eyebrow, silently asking him if they needed to take her to the hospital.

Paul quickly assessed the situation and decided that she would be fine without a trip to the emergency room; it also meant not having to explain to anyone – the Vice President, especially – what happened. As frustrated as he was with what Kelly did, the fall was an accident, and Paul didn't want her to get into trouble. He slightly shook his head.

Alan nodded, understanding. He turned to his son. "Charlie, why don't you take Kelly to her room while I clean up this mess?"

"Me?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, you," Alan replied. "You've had more experience than any of us at dealing with Kelly's injuries." He glanced at Paul. "Aside from him."

"Thank you," Paul said. He sighed as he glanced at Charlie. "You think you can handle this on your own while I help clean this up?"

Charlie was tempted to say no, but he glanced at Kelly and saw her sitting on the floor, bleeding and looking very scared. He nodded and walked over as Paul and Alan gingerly helped Kelly to her feet; she looked a little unsteady. Charlie stepped over and put an arm around her waist, supporting her as he led her slowly toward the solarium entrance. After a couple of small steps Kelly's knees started shaking, and before Charlie knew what he was doing he reflexively scooped Kelly into his arms, holding her securely next to him. It was then he realized what he had done, and he suddenly felt very self-conscious, knowing that his father, Paul, and Larry were watching him. He could feel his cheeks getting warm as he headed out of the solarium without saying a word.

"I … I think it's safe to say that we have just witnessed something that has never been documented before in the history of mankind," Larry replied.

"What's that?" Paul asked.

"The irresistible force being moved by the immovable object," Larry answered. He saw Paul and Alan looking at him, eyebrows raised. "What? I was merely making an observation."

"Go get a broom and dustpan," Alan said. "After you call Don."

"You want me to call Don?" Larry asked.

"Yes, I want you to call Don," Alan said.

"Thanks," Larry replied with slight sarcasm. He turned and headed out the room.

"So, what's your take on all this?" Alan asked as he picked up the rocking chair, carefully moving around the glass.

"On what?" Paul asked.

"Charlie and Kelly," Alan answered.

"I think it's best I don't say anything," Paul replied.

"Not your place, huh?" Alan asked.

"More like … it's never gonna happen," Paul replied. "Especially if Kelly's father has anything to say about it."

"Well, last time I checked, Kelly was an adult," Alan said, feeling the need to stand up for his son.

"Look, I'm not insulting you or your son," Paul replied. "Regardless of how he feels about her, it's never going to happen; her father doesn't like him. And, to be honest, I don't need anything to further complicate my job right now." Alan shrugged, deciding best not to pursue the subject anymore with an agitated man who carried a gun. He turned and began assessing the damage to the solarium.

- - - -

Don was in the debriefing room with other agents as the assistant director talked about their current case load and the usual blah blah blah. It wasn't that Don was disrespectful; it was just that the AD could get very long-winded in a short amount of time … and Don felt that his time could be better spent elsewhere. He sighed softly and nonchalantly glanced at his watch when his cellphone suddenly vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the caller ID; it was the home number. Usually, he would have ignored it, but given the fact that Kelly was staying there … Don knew it was best to take the call. He discreetly left the briefing room and flipped his phone open.

"Charlie?" he asked.

"Actually, it's Larry."

"Oh," Don replied, furrowing his eyebrow. "Is … is everything okay?" He knew Larry was a frequent visitor to the house, but it was still unsettling whenever he called, because it made Don wonder if something was wrong with either his brother or his father – and now Kelly.

"Well," Larry said slowly. "Define 'okay.'"

Don closed his eyes. "What happened, Larry?"

"Kelly fell off the roof of the house," Larry answered.

"What?" Don all but shouted, his eyebrows nearly shooting off his head. "Is she okay? What happened?"

"She's fine," Larry reassured her. "She crashed into one of the solarium windows, which actually kept her from falling to the ground."

"You know, you're not making me feel any better, Larry," Don said.

"Kelly's fine," Larry said. "Your dad and one of the agents are cleaning up the glass, and Charlie's taking care of Kelly."

Don took a deep breath. "Look, tell them I'm on my way home," Don said.

"Well, I'm not sure if that's really necessary," Larry said. "Everything's -"

Don hung up his phone and walked to his desk, grabbing his things and heading for the elevators; he glanced at his watch. _Not even twelve o'clock_, he thought, shaking his head.

- - - -

"Ow," Kelly hissed softly as Charlie used a pair of tweezers to delicately remove the last sliver of glass from the young woman's forehead. The two sat on Kelly's bed, with a small first aid kit opened between them.

"Sorry," he said, putting the sliver on paper towel on the nightstand; he quickly counted the total number of slivers - thirty in all. Charlie put the tweezers back in the kit and took out an alcohol wipe. He opened the small packet and gently dabbed at Kelly's cuts; he heard her inhale sharply, and he gently blew on the cuts to take out the sting. "Hope that helps."

"Thanks," Kelly said softly.

"What were you doing up there?" he asked as he continued doctoring her wounds.

"I was looking for you," Kelly replied.

"You could have shouted for me," Charlie said. He was frustrated with her, but he was more scared than anything. He thought about what he'd felt when he saw her fall off the roof … and he didn't want to ever feel that way again.

"Sorry," Kelly said, looking down.

Charlie sighed. He knew it had been an accident. "I know," he said. "But no more going up on the roof, okay?" Kelly nodded. "Good. Now, I think it might be best if you stayed up here the rest of the day – just resting."

"I have a sink to finish putting together," Kelly protested.

"You fell off a roof and went through a window," Charlie said, trying not to sound angry. "You could have gotten killed." He sighed. "Look, you're staying up here and resting if I have to stay up here with you to make sure that happens." There was a sudden knock on the closed bedroom door, and Charlie frowned as he looked over. "What?"

The door opened, and Alan stuck his head in. "Everything okay in here?" he asked.

"Yeah, we're fine," Charlie said. "Kelly's going to be in here resting for the day." He gave Kelly a look that almost dared her to challenge him.

"I think that would be a wise idea," Alan replied, trying not to smile at seeing how his son was behaving. He saw Kelly's eyes welling up with tears, and his smile faded. "Kelly, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," Kelly said. "I didn't mean to break the window … and the sink …." Charlie and Alan glanced at each other, confused.

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asked.

"It's okay," Kelly said as tears spilled down her cheeks. "If you don't want me to stay here anymore …."

It suddenly clicked in Alan's mind why Kelly had been so helpful over the past couple of days. He sighed as he walked over and sat on the other side of Kelly, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Kelly, you're our guest. We want you to be with us; you don't have to earn that by doing things around the house."

"Or destroying them," Kelly muttered.

"That too," Alan replied, smiling. He gently hugged her and placed a kiss on her forehead, taking care to avoid her cuts; he glanced down at her hands, knowing how much the rope burns were probably hurting her. "Now, after Charlie takes care of your hands, I want you to get some rest, okay?"

"What about the window?" Kelly asked.

"Don't worry about that," Alan said. "Charlie, may I talk with you for a moment?"

"Sure," Charlie said. He turned to Kelly. "I'll be back." Kelly nodded as he stood up and followed his father out of the room; Charlie closed the door behind him. "What's up?"

"Something is wrong with her," Alan said softly.

"Well, I know she's a little kooky," Charlie replied, smiling. His smile faded when he saw the seriousness in his father's expression. "What are you talking about, Dad?"

"Charlie, I'm a father," Alan said. "I know when something's bothering a kid – whether that kid is mine or someone else's." He sighed. "I think you might be on to something with her."

"But how is this connected to her father?" Charlie asked.

"Not sure," Alan replied. "But there is definitely something bothering her."

"And you're just now figuring this out?" Paul asked as he walked over to the two with Larry behind him. "What happened?"

"Oh, Kelly felt like she had to earn her keep around here," Alan replied. "Agent Holden, is this normal behavior for her?"

"She's been through a lot lately," Paul answered. He hesitated, wondering if he should even be talking to them, but he could see that Kelly was hurting, no matter how much of a show she put on … and he couldn't sit by and just let that continue anymore; he sighed. "Look, I'm not really supposed to be talking about this, but she has been having a lot of problems with her father – especially lately."

"I knew it," Charlie said. "So, what do we do?"

"That's the hard part," Paul replied. "She's a very stubborn person."

"Well, not to state the obvious, but duh," Charlie said wryly. "How do you get her to talk?"

"She's gotta do it herself," Paul answered.

"She started opening up to me when we were in DC," Charlie said. "But we got interrupted by some agents."

"So, maybe if the situation was repeated," Larry replied slowly, "without the interruptions, then she might be willing to open up."

"Hey, I'm not getting flipped and slapped again," Charlie said.

"Actually, I was thinking about the other things, Charles," Larry replied. "Has she been allowed to leave the house since arriving?"

"No, we figured it would be best to keep her in one place," Paul said. Then it dawned on him. "And that's why she's been so restless." He sighed. "Look, I can't just let her go roaming the streets – especially in L.A."

"Well, I don't think he's asking you to let her go drag racing in the middle of Downtown," Alan replied.

"That's exactly something she would do, though," Paul pointed out.

"How about bringing her to CalSci?" Charlie suggested. "Let her see the campus … my office."

"I think if you gave her a tour of your office," Larry replied, "it would take you three days."

"Ha," Charlie said. "She probably would enjoy it, though." He looked at Paul. "What do you think?"

"I might be able to agree to that," Paul said slowly.

"Hey, you should talk to Donny," Alan spoke up. "Maybe he could give Kelly a tour down at his place. Kelly's planning on being a Forensic Psychologist – she might feel at home there."

"We'll see," Paul said. "How's Kelly right now?"

"I gotta take care of her hands," Charlie said. "I'll stay with her and make sure she rests. How's the solarium?"

"Well, we cleaned up the broken glass and covered the window with some plastic," Larry said. "Should be fine until it gets repaired."

"Well, it's close to lunchtime," Alan said. "I'm going to make soup and sandwiches." He looked at Paul and Larry. "You guys want to help?"

"Sure," Larry said.

"We'll bring up lunch later," Alan said to his son. Charlie nodded and went back into Kelly's room while Paul and Larry followed Alan as he headed down the hall and stairs.

- - - -

Don pulled his Suburban into the driveway and got out, looking around. A million thoughts raced through his head as he shut his door and headed up the front walk, thankful that all the reporters had finally left; the only car on the street was a black Buick Century on the opposite side, and Don knew it contained two more Secret Service agents. Don heard a car approaching, and he turned in time to see a 1991 gray Ford Escort Sedan pull beside the curb. He watched as one of the agents got out of the car and approached the Escort as its driver exited the vehicle.

The two talked in low tones that Don couldn't hear, but stayed where he was, tense and hand on his gun, ready to help if he needed; he didn't care if the Secret Service was there – that was his family inside the house, and he would protect them if they needed it. He studied the unfamiliar man, gauging him. The man was tall and well-built, and his face was aged, but Don didn't let his guard down; appearances could be very deceptive.

After a few seconds – and to Don's surprise – the S.S. Agent left the man and headed back to the car as the man headed up the walk. He saw Don standing near the front steps and smiled warmly as he approached.

**Balladeer: Now, folks, I know who that man is … but I think I'm gonna hold off on tellin' ya for the time bein'. Let's see if ya'll can figure it out.**

"Afternoon," he said with a southern twang.

"Hi," Don said slowly. "May I help you?"

"No, that's okay," the man said. "That agent over there already cleared me."

"That's all good and fine," Don replied, "but that still doesn't answer my question."

"I'm here to see Kelly," the man said.

"Are you the doctor?" Don asked.

The man raised an eyebrow. "'Doctor?'" he asked. "No." Then it dawned at him, and he dropped his gaze and shook his head. "Oh, no. What has she done to herself this time?"

Don raised an eyebrow. "'This time?'" he asked. "How long have you known her?"

The man looked up and smiled. "Oh, Kelly and I go way back … I've known her since she was knee high to a nightcrawler."

Don raised an eyebrow, but he decided not to say anything to that. "Okay, well, come on." He headed up the stairs with the man following him.

"So, what did she do that would require a doctor comin' out?" the man asked.

"Well, she fell off the roof and crashed through one of the solarium windows," Don replied as he opened the door. "Dad! Charlie!"

"Is she okay?" the man asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he followed Don into the house.

"Yeah, she's fine," Don said. Alan, Larry, and Paul emerged from the kitchen and headed over to the two men. "Hey, guys."

"Who's this?" Alan asked, looking at the stranger.

"He's been cleared, don't worry," Don replied, seeing Paul tense a little, frowning at the man. "Where's Charlie?"

"He's upstairs making sure Kelly doesn't do anything stupid," Alan replied.

"Don't you mean again?" Don asked wryly.

"Well, actually, the fall was an accident," Alan replied. "Her being on the roof, on the other hand …."

"I take it no one warned ya, huh?" the man asked, trying not to smile too much.

"She is a handful," Alan said.

"Yeah, she can be," the stranger replied, "but she's also got a mighty good heart. Can I see her?"

"I'll take you up," Paul said. He brushed past everyone and headed upstairs; the stranger followed behind.

"So, who is he?" Alan asked Don.

"Well, apparently he's known Kelly since she was 'knee high to a nightcrawler," Don replied. He glanced at the stairs. "Anyone else want to know who this guy really is?"

"I'm game," Alan said. Don and Alan headed up the stairs, and Larry – not to be left out – followed them.

- - - -

Kelly sighed as she leaned against her pillows, carefully holding a book on Shakespeare to avoid hurting her now bandaged hands. She loved Shakespeare, but she was utterly bored. She glanced over her book and saw Charlie sitting at her desk, writing with a pencil and paper. She debated whether or not to bolt, but she knew he'd catch her – and she knew that wouldn't be pleasant; she had seen what he was capable of, and she was surprised … and found herself a little weak in the knees. She quickly shook her head, closing her eyes. Get a grip, girl, she thought. He's not that cute. The young woman looked up when the bedroom door opened and Paul stuck his head in.

"Everything okay in here?" he asked.

"Not really," Kelly replied. "I'm bored, and I got cuts on my faces and bandages on my hands." She held up her hands for emphasis, hoping to get at least some sympathy from her bodyguard.

"t'ain't no use, babygirl – you still look like our angel, and there ain't nothin' you can do that'll change that."

Kelly eyes widened when she heard the familiar voice. She slowly sat up and kept her eyes on the door as the stranger brushed past Paul and walked into the room; he smiled warmly at the young woman. Charlie looked over and saw the newcomer, and he furrowed his eyebrows. He glanced at Kelly as her mouth hung open, and she dropped Shakespeare and slowly swung her feet over the side of the bed, just staring at the newcomer.

"Enos!" she shrieked as she jumped from the bed and all but flew into his arms; he lifted her off the ground, arms around her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, burying her face into his broad shoulder. Charlie raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out what was going on; Paul, Alan, Don, and Larry stood just inside the room, watching the scene with interest.

**Balladeer: See? Now, if I had told ya that it was Enos … well, that would've ruined the surprise. And it sure is nice to see Kelly and Enos reunited, huh?**

After a minute passed Enos pulled his head back to look at the young woman, still holding her high off the ground. "Is that all you have to say to me, young lady?" he asked, his tone all serious and guardianish, but his eyes gave him away as they twinkled playfully. Kelly blinked up at him, and Enos couldn't wait to hear her say she was glad to see him; that would make his day.

Kelly's eyes shined, and she smiled just a bit, then –

"Where the h have you been!" she demanded. "Did you know they stuck Cletus as sheriff back home? They actually went and found him and borrowed him and brought him back to Hazzard! Cletus! I mean, come on! What are you doin' here when you need to be at home doin' your job?"

Enos blinked a few times, trying to process everything she just said. He pursed his lips a little, then he shifted, supporting her with one arm; he raised his free hand and swiftly swatted her.

"EEP!" Kelly squeaked, squirming a little, throwing out her lower lip as she rubbed her bottom. "Enos!"

"That's fer swearin'" Enos said. "You know better 'n that." He gently twirled a lock of her hair. "And I oughta give ya more for changin' yer hair."

Kelly started to protest, but she could see he was joking. She smiled and playfully smacked his arm before she hugged him again. "It's really good to see you," she said.

"Same here, babygirl," Enos said softly, squeezing her once more before putting her back on the floor. "How are you?"

Kelly shrugged. "Same old, same old," she replied.

"So I heard," Enos said, nodding to her bandaged hands. "I thought you weren't allowed to be on rooftops anymore."

"That was a long time ago," Kelly pointed out.

"And, as I recall, the last time you were on a roof it landed you in the hospital," Enos retorted.

The verbal argument would have continued, but Charlie – who had joined Paul, Don, Alan, and Larry - decided to butt in. He cleared his throat loudly, jarring the two Hazzardians from their little world. They looked over and saw the five men watching them with interest.

"So, who's your friend, Kelly?" Charlie asked, smiling forcefully. He knew that Enos character was way too old to have been involved with Kelly … at least, he hoped that was the case …. He was more interested in just knowing who Enos was.

"Oh, sorry," Kelly said, looking a little embarrassed. "Enos, I'd like to introduce you to Charlie, Don, and Alan Eppes, Larry Fleinhardt, and Paul Holden. Guys, this is Enos Strait; he's from Hazzard."

"Oh, so I'm just 'from Hazzard?'" Enos replied, smiling, putting his hands on his hips.

Kelly smiled. "Fine," she said. She looked at everyone. "Guys, remember that sheriff who used to race with me – and arrest me?"

"He's him?" Don asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't know what to make of Enos swatting Kelly (even if he wasn't a total stranger to the concept), but he was amused to see his brother getting jealous; if the situation hadn't been a little too serious, Don would have grinned.

"Yep," Enos said, putting an arm around Kelly's shoulders. "I've put this girl in jail more times than a fly on grits." The men gave him blank stares.

"Translation: a lot," Kelly said.

"You seem proud of this," Alan replied.

Kelly shrugged, smiling. "What can I say? I spiced things up in Hazzard."

"You spice things up wherever you go, darlin'," Enos corrected her.

"True," Kelly replied. She smirked, folding her arms. "So, Mr. I'm-Gonna-Leave-Without-Tellin'-One-Of-My-Favorite-Girls, how did you know where to find me?"

"Well, after I heard about what happened in D.C. earlier this week," Enos explaind, "I called yer daddy to see if you was okay. He told me you was gonna be spendin' some time out here, and I told him I was in the area, and he said it would be okay if I dropped in to see ya, seein' how it's been a while."

"Two years," Kelly pointed out.

"Well, I hate to interrupt this," Alan said, "but I have soup and sandwiches downstairs, if anyone's hungry."

"I'm starving," Kelly replied. She grabbed Enos' hand. "You have to stay. Please?"

Enos glanced at the others, trying to gauge their expressions. He knew they were being protective of his Kelly … and was that a hint of jealousy from Charlie? Enos was feeling especially plucky that day … and he squeezed Kelly's hand, brought it up, and gently placed a kiss on the back, right in the center. "How can I say no to you, darlin'?" he asked.

Kelly grinned. "You can't," she replied. "Come on." She tugged on Enos' hand as she brushed past everyone, leaving the others in her proverbial dust. The five men just watched the two for a few seconds before following them down the stairs.

**Balladeer: Now, some of you might be wonderin' what in the world Enos was doin'. Well, ya see, he could see that that Charlie fella was takin' a keen interest in his Kelly … and as sweet and gentle and kind as Enos was, he could also be a little ornery toward anyone who was interested in his angel.**

(End of Chapter 11)


	12. Chapter 12

- - - -

"So, are you going to tell me why you're out here?" Kelly asked as she sat at the table with the six men. In front of each person sat a plate with a sandwich and some chips, and a bowl of tomato soup (each plate and bowl in various stages of being polished off).

"Now, if I did that," Enos said, grinning, "then where would the fun be?"

Kelly stuck her tongue out. "Well, if you're going to be like that, then please do something else that's fun."

"Maybe I can tell everyone about what you were famous for in Hazzard 'sides drivin'," Enos smirked.

Kelly's eyes widened. "You will not!"

"Oh, I would be interested in knowing," Don said, smiling. "Dad?"

"Very interested, yes," Alan said.

"I want to know too," Paul smirked.

"Count me in," Charlie replied. Kelly glared at them, then she turned to Larry, who held up his hands in defense.

"I'm not going to say a word," he replied.

"So, what was she famous for?" Charlie asked, folding his arms, grinning.

Enos chuckled, pushing his plate back before taking in a deep breath. "Well, you see, Kelly had this bad habit of … well …," he said slowly. "Streakin'." Kelly groaned and sank low into her chair, covering her face with her hands, blushing. Six pairs of eyes slowly looked down at her, eyebrows raised.

" 'Streaking?'" Don asked. "As in …"

"As in 'runnin'-around-naked-as-a-jaybird' streakin'," Enos replied. He ruffled Kelly's hair. "Oh, don't be embarrassed, darlin'. You certainly weren't when you were baring that bottom of yours to the world."

"You are so going to pay for this," Kelly muttered, not moving or taking her hands from her face. "And for the record, it was Daddy who first encouraged me, remember?"

"What?" Alan asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It was Boss Hogg's State of the County address," Kelly said, sitting up straight, trying to state her case, more mad than embarrassed – for the moment. "I was three, and Daddy – and Bo and Luke – were protesting that tax, remember?"

Enos grinned, knowing he had ruffled her feathers. "Darlin', I think we all remember that day," he replied. "And that tush."

Kelly growled, blushing a deeper crimson as Enos started talking about Kelly's incidents involving streaking – all twenty-six of them. The young woman folded her arms and sighed as she leaned back in her chair; she stole a glance in Charlie's direction, and she couldn't believe he was grinning. Oh, you are going to so pay for enjoying this, Dr. Eppes, she threatened to herself.

- - - -

**Balladeer: Now, I know some of you – mainly you boys out there - are itchin' to hear about what kind of streaker Kelly was when she used to live in Hazzard … but I think it would be best not to embarrass the angel more 'n necessary. But I'll tell ya'll this much: Enos and the others were enjoyin' themselves rather nicely … unaware that Kelly was plottin' their slow and painful deaths. Anyway … after lunch Enos stayed for a bit before shovin' off, but he promised to keep in closer touch with his angel. Oh, and it didn't take long for Paul to agree in lettin' Kelly get out and about – even if it was just to CalSci and the FBI office (Don had gotten permission from his boss to let her come in for a short time). The rest of the day went off without a hitch – thank goodness – and night came and went, givin' way to mornin'.**

Charlie smiled and sighed with content as he lay on his stomach and snuggled against his pillow.

POW!

Charlie was suddenly hit over the head with an ivory pillow. His eyes shot open, but before he could shout, he was swiftly smacked across his bottom, and he shrieked as he turned around, getting tangled in his covers. It took him a few seconds to get untangled, and he looked around, breathing hard. He stopped short when he saw Kelly standing next to his bed, still dressed in her pajamas, smiling smugly down at him.

"What was that for?" Charlie asked.

"Now, we're even," Kelly replied before turning and leaving, closing the door behind her.

Charlie watched her with wide-eyes, completely stunned by what she just did … and a little amused at the same time. A slow smile spread across his face as he leaned back against his pillows. "D--n," he said softly. Suddenly, his smile faded. "Hey, you got even yesterday!" He scrambled out of bed to give chase, but then he decided not to test his luck; he simply shook his head and got up, heading for the bathroom.

- - - -

_Los Angeles FBI Field Office …_

The elevator doors opened to Don's floor, and the agent exited, followed by Kelly, Paul, and Charlie. Each of them wore a clearance tag visibly clipped to their clothing. They walked through the corridor on the way to Don's cubicle; Kelly looked around in fascination, but then she noticed some of the other agents watching her, and she suddenly felt a little self-conscious.

"I feel like I'm in a goldfish bowl," she said softly.

"I know the feeling," Charlie replied. "You should have been here the first day I came in for a consultation. Eyes everywhere … just staring at me."

"How old were you?" Kelly asked.

"Not much older than you," Charlie replied. "But, hey, you're just here as a visitor."

"Who happens to be the daughter of the Vice-President," Kelly pointed out.

"Don't sweat it, Kelly," Don said, smirking. "They got used to Charlie … sort of."

"Ha," Charlie replied. He put an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Kelly. I'll protect you from all these old people."

"'Old people?'" Paul asked, raising an eyebrow. "Who are you calling old?" Kelly smiled as they reached Don's cubicle.

"Okay, here we are," Don replied, showing off his . "This is my cubicle."

"Computer, paper, pencils," Kelly said slowly. She smirked. "Impressive, Don."

"Ha," Don replied. "Let's continue the tour." He led them over to the briefing room, where he saw Megan, David, and Colby inside, talking among files and photos. He stopped short. "Hang on a sec, guys." He left the group and headed into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Case?" Kelly asked.

"It appears so," Charlie replied. "Wonder what it is …." He knew Don didn't ask for his help on every case, but he still felt a little left out.

"From what I can see," Kelly said, "it looks like some kind of murder."

"Maybe we should look at something else," Paul suggested.

"Paul, it's okay," Kelly said. "I've seen intense things before … even a few autopsies."

"Really?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, one of my professors has a friend at Quantico," Kelly replied. "So, I got a little extra help on some of my research articles."

"You're published too?" Charlie asked.

"Just a few times," Kelly replied, shrugging.

"What journal?" Charlie asked.

"The Journal of Abnormal Psychology," Kelly replied.

"Awesome," Charlie said, smiling. "You know, I published my first article when I was fourteen."

"Are you trying to impress me or just bragging?" Kelly asked, folding her arms across her chest and smiling.

Charlie blinked a few times, opening his mouth slightly. "I-I-I was just thinking we could … compare articles," he said nervously.

Kelly grinned. "And what was your first article on?" she asked.

"Higher dynamics of mathematics applied to the statistical quantity of subatomic particles," Charlie replied slowly. He braced himself for a comment, but she just shook her head. Thankfully, Don chose that moment to walk over, and Charlie sighed and dropped his voice to a mere whisper. "Thank goodness." He cleared his throat and raised his voice. "Is everything okay, Don?"

"Yeah, just making sure they're not working on anything you're not supposed to see," Don replied. He turned to Kelly. "You up to meeting a few friends of mine?"

"Sure," Kelly replied. She and the others followed Don to the briefing room. Inside, she glanced at the three agents.

"Kelly," Don said, "I'd like to introduce you to some of my coworkers. Special Agents Megan Reeves, David Sinclair, and Colby Granger. Everyone, this is Kelly Davenport."

Megan had light brown hair and hazel eyes, and she wore a three piece pants suit. David had dark skin, eyes, and hair, and he wore a black suit. Colby had brown hair and eyes, and he also wore a black suit. All three of them appeared to be in their 30s – about Paul's and Don's ages – and they smiled at the young woman.

"Welcome to Los Angeles, Miss Davenport," David said warmly.

"Thank you," Kelly said. "Oh, and please, call me Kelly."

"And you must be her shadow," Colby said to Paul.

"Agent Holden," Paul said, nodding politely to the trio.

"How are you enjoying your visit so far, Kelly?" David asked.

"Well, I haven't seen much outside the Eppes' house," Kelly replied, "but it's really nice."

"Don tells us you're working on your doctorate in Psychology," Megan said. Kelly nodded. "That's very impressive."

"Thank you," Kelly replied, smiling. "I just finished up my dissertation, and I'm waiting for the results, and I still have to do my internship."

"What did you do your dissertation on?" David asked.

Kelly chuckled and blushed a little, embarrassed. "Actually, it was about why the FBI needs to redo their system of profiling serial killers in today's society."

"You don't think we're doing a good job, Kelly?" Megan asked, smiling.

"No, I think you guys are doing a great job," Kelly said quickly. "I've just noticed that there is very little, if any, research and procedure for identifying female serial killers."

"Well, there aren't really a lot of female serial killers to profile," Colby said.

"Well, actually, from 1900 on," Kelly said, "there are forty-one documented cases on female serial killers."

"Well, that may be the case, but females don't account for a high percentage of crimes committed," David said.

"That's true, but since 1970," Kelly replied, "there has been about a one hundred and forty percent increase in the number of crimes committed by women – and the numbers are still going up. It's only a matter of time before we see more violent crimes committed by more women, but unless there's more research done on past cases, a lot of future cases involving potential female killers are going to be missed."

"Wow," Colby replied. "You sound just like Charlie."

"Hey, don't insult me, please," Charlie said, smiling. Kelly folded her arms and looked at the mathematician. "I mean that strictly as a term of endearment."

"Watch it," Kelly replied, smiling, "or I'll be endearing my foot to your a--."

"Okay, okay," Don said, holding up a hand. "Maybe we've spent enough time here. Charlie, why don't you take her to CalSci and show her around? I'm going to stay here and do some actual work."

Charlie saw the twinkle in his brother's eyes. "Fine," he replied, smiling. "We'll let you do your important FBI work … come on, Kelly."

"It was nice to meet all of you," Kelly said to the trio.

"Nice to meet you too, Kelly," Megan replied.

"Thanks for bringing me here, Don," Kelly said to the agent.

"No problem," Don replied, smiling. "Charlie, behave yourself." Charlie blushed, and Don grinned. "See you guys tonight." Charlie, Kelly, and Paul left the room, and the four agents watched them leave.

"Yep, he likes her," Megan said.

"Told you so," Don replied. "Just … try not to let on that you know."

"Is it me or does he seem a little more normal now?" Colby asked.

"Yeah, it's kind of refreshing," Don answered. "Oh, and thanks for not mentioning anything about her being the VP's daughter."

"Well, when you come in here and ask us not to do something," Megan said, "we tend to listen, Don."

"I know, but it was last minute," Don replied, "and I know it's not something she's fond of hearing, so … thanks." The trio smiled, and Don glanced at the table with photographs strewn all over it, grabbing one.

**Balladeer: Well, ain't that somthin' … Agent Eppes getting' all protective with Kelly. Wonder what Cooter would say to that?**

- - - -

"And this is my office," Charlie said as he walked into his office; Kelly followed him, and Paul was behind her. Charlie led Kelly around while Paul stayed near the door.

Kelly whistled softly as she looked around, taking in the oddities and doodads scattered all over the office. The disorganized papers … the post it notes everywhere … the multiple stacks of documents … and was that a bowl of gumballs on that desk? She looked around, smiling, then she started laughing. "Oh, my," she said.

"What?" Charlie asked.

"This is the most disorganized office I've ever seen!" Kelly exclaimed. "How do you work like this?"

"Hey, don't insult my office," Charlie said, smiling.

"You need to organize this better," Kelly said, heading for one of the two desks.

Charlie skittered over and gently grabbed her hands before she could touch anything; he smiled as best he could. "Remember when we got into that fight because I was being a jerk and you said you were at fault for butting in without asking?"

Kelly winced. "Oh," she said softly. "I'm doing it again … sorry."

"It's okay," Charlie replied. "I know it looks a little disorganized, but this really works for me." He smiled, letting her know he wasn't mad at her. Kelly felt relieved as she smiled back.

"Hello?" Everyone turned to see Amita come in with her arms full of file folders. She saw Charlie holding his hands over Kelly's and the two smiling at each other, and Amita slowly smiled. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No," Charlie said quickly, letting go of Kelly's hands before he walked over. "Nothing at all." He glanced between the two women, feeling a little nervous, even though he knew he shouldn't. It wasn't like he and Amita had really seen each other … and it wasn't like he and Kelly were going out. Still, he couldn't understand why he felt that way. "Uh … Amita, this is Kelly Davenport. Kelly, this is Amita Ramanujan."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," Amita said, smiling at Kelly.

"Same here," Kelly replied. "And that's my shadow standing next to you, Agent Holden." Kelly nodded to Paul.

Amita smiled and nodded to the agent. "Nice to meet you," she said.

"So, how do you know Charlie?" Kelly asked.

"He used to be my thesis advisor when I was doing my doctorate thesis in Combinatorics," Amita said.

"And now she feels she has to get another Ph.D. in Astrophysics," Charlie said, smiling.

"And Charlie feels he has to continually nag me about it," Amita replied.

"What's Combinatorics?" Kelly asked.

"It's the part of mathematics that studies finite collections of objects that satisfy specified criteria," Charlie replied. "In particular, it is concerned with 'counting' the objects in those collections - Enumerative Combinatorics - and with deciding whether certain 'optimal' objects exist - Extremal Combinatorics - and which 'algebraic' structures these objects have - Algebraic Combinatorics."

Kelly blinked a few times. "Uh," she said slowly. "Okay."

"Okay, I think you've officially lost her," Amita replied, smiling.

Kelly smiled sheepishly. "If you were talking about deviant behavior … I would be a little less glassy-eyed."

"And she'd be insulting the FBI," Charlie added.

"Hey, I was not insulting the FBI," Kelly said. "I was merely pointing out that there were flaws in their methods for identifying certain types of serial killers."

"Sounds like something Charlie would do," Amita replied, grinning.

"Can I help you with something?" Charlie asked Amita, smiling as he folded his arms across his chest.

"I have those documents from Larry," Amita said.

"Oh, great," Charlie replied. He turned to Kelly. "Uh, do you mind if I work on this for a few minutes?"

"No, go right ahead," Kelly replied. "Mind if I look around?"

"Just don't go organizing the place," Charlie jokingly warned. Kelly smiled and glanced around. Her eyes fell on the gumball bowl. "Hey, Charlie, can I have a one of these?"

Charlie looked over, and he smiled. "Sure," he replied. He hurried over to the far desk and grabbed a pencil as Kelly reached into the bowl and pulled out a gumball. "You mind telling me which one you chose?"

"Uh, the blue one," Kelly replied, showing him the gumball before popping it into her mouth and chewing.

"Very interesting," Charlie said, scribbling on a piece of paper.

"What are you doing over there?" Kelly asked.

"A statistical analysis on which colors are more popular," Charlie replied.

"You know, you could take it a step further," Kelly said, chewing. "Find out what the correlation is between what people are feeling when they take a particular color."

"Uh huh," Charlie said, smiling. He went back to Amita, and the two began working quietly at Charlie's laptop.

Kelly quietly explored the office, fascinated by all the things she saw. After a few moments her eyes fell on a small prism hanging next to one of the windows. She walked over and stared at it as little rainbows – created by the light refracting in the prism - danced on the wall behind it. The young woman smiled sadly and delicately fingered the prism as she started humming softly. Charlie and Amita glanced over, and then they looked at each other before going back to work. It didn't take them long to finish what they needed, and Amita gathered her things and left the office.

"So, how long did you two go out?" Kelly asked as she stared out the window and watched the activity of the campus.

"Excuse me?" Charlie asked.

"You and Amita," Kelly said. "How long did you two go out?"

"Who talked?" Charlie asked. "Don? My father?"

"Your body language," Kelly answered. "It was subtle, but I've been trained to see it."

Charlie blushed a little. "Well, we, uh , we did go on one date," he said, "but it didn't go so well."

"I'm sorry," Kelly said.

Charlie shrugged. "It's no big deal," he replied. He took a deep breath. "So, why were you humming?"

"Huh?" Kelly asked, turning around.

"Earlier," Charlie replied. "You were humming."

Kelly blushed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to."

Charlie smiled. "It's okay," he said. "I kinda like that song."

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "You know 'Rainbow Connection?'"

"Everyone knows 'Rainbow Connection,'" Charlie said.

"Daddy used to sing that to me when I was little," Kelly replied. "And whenever I got scared; it always made me feel better." She smiled, but Charlie could see a sad look in her eyes, and he wanted to ask her what the problem was, but he felt like it wasn't his place. He glanced around to see if there was something to change the subject with, and his eyes fell on his dart board.

"Hey, you want to play some darts?" he asked

"Sure," Kelly replied.

Charlie smiled and went over to get the darts. He glanced over and saw Paul watching him, eyebrows raised. The mathematician looked a little sheepish, but he gathered the darts and walked back to Kelly. "Okay," he said. "You know how to play?"

Kelly took a dart, lined up her shot, and threw the dart. It sailed through the air – and hit the outer part of the yellow target area. She smiled up at Charlie. "Just a little," she said, smiling at his slightly stunned expression.

From his position near the door Paul watched the two play their game, and he couldn't help smiling. He knew things may have gotten a little complicated with Charlie in the picture, but Kelly was enjoying herself … and that was more important to the agent. He knew her father probably wouldn't agree, but that was the farthest thing from Paul's mind as he watched the two have a little fun.

(End of Chapter 12)


	13. Chapter 13

- - - - 

**Balladeer: Well, later that evening Larry joined them for dinner, and for coffee afterwards. Everyone scattered around the living room – Don, Larry, and Alan in the chairs, and Charlie and Kelly on the couch; Paul had pulled up another chair, sittin' near Larry. Everyone had a cup of coffee as they talked about … well, about anythin' and everythin'. Actually, it started out with them talking about books, and then Kelly mentioned she liked them Sherlock Holmes mysteries.**

"Since you seem to like mysteries, Kelly," Larry said, "here's something for you think about: Why is it that we remember the past and not the future?"

Charlie groaned. "Larry, would you please give it a rest?"

"What?" Larry asked. "I'm merely asking the young woman a question."

Charlie smiled. "I wouldn't go there, Larry."

"It's okay, Charlie," Kelly said, smiling. She looked to Larry. "Well, we remember the past, because it's already happened. The future hasn't happened yet, so we can't remember something that hasn't happened yet."

"You're assuming that time is on a linear plane, Kelly," Larry said.

"Actually, it has nothing to do with time, Larry," Kelly replied. "The question you're asking deals with human behavior."

"Human behavior and thought processing are anomalies that can't be confined to simple equations," Larry said.

"But that's still predictable," Kelly pointed out. "The fact that something is constantly unpredictable shows that it can still be predictable."

Larry nodded. "That is true, but the predictability of the unpredictable behavior cannot be used in this particular question."

"Actually, it's the only thing that can be used for this question, Dr. Fleinhardt," Kelly replied, smiling.

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows, and he debated saying something; he glanced at his father and brother and he saw their befuddled expressions. The mathematician decided it was best to remain quiet for the time being and watch the scene play out. Charlie glanced at Paul and saw an amused smile playing on the agent's lips.

"So, explain to me your theory, Kelly," Larry said.

Kelly nodded. "Sure," she said. She put her cup down, got up and, walked over to where Larry sat; she lightly punched his arm.

"Ow!" Larry shouted, rubbing his arm. "What was that for?"

"I'm explaining my theory," Kelly said. "Now, let's try that again." She reached out to punch him again, but Larry dodged; Kelly smiled. "Good, you remembered what I did. Now, what if I were to do it again?" She tried to punch Larry again; he dodged, but she swung her other arm out and popped him on the other arm.

"Ow!" Lary shouted, rubbing his other arm.

"What did I do?" Kelly asked.

"You hit me," Larry said bluntly. "Again."

"But not in the exact same way," Kelly pointed out. "I changed a variable, because I knew you were expecting me to act on something that had happened in the past. You remembered something from the past to predict a future behavior, and it didn't work.

"But I didn't remember the future," Larry said.

"Exactly - because you couldn't," Kelly replied.

"But you're forgetting about premonitions - memories from the future," Larry said.

Kelly smiled and nodded. "I have no doubt they exist, but it goes back to the Uncertainty Principle, that even the act of observing something changes the entire equation and outcome. Observing future memories will cause those memories to cease to exist, because the mere fact that we have those memories of the future in the first place would lead us to act on them, changing the future and voiding the very memories that caused us to act. In short, like I said earlier, you can't remember the future because of all the possible variables that would occur by the mere fact that we are able to observe the future in the first place." Everyone just stared at Kelly as she walked back to her spot on the couch, like she had an extra head … or ten eyes on her forehead. She took a sip of her coffee and then looked around. "What?"

"How do you know about a principle on subatomic particles?" Don asked.

"Because the same theory is applicable to psychology," Kelly replied. "In my graduate research we took great care to keep the real purpose of the experiments we did a secret from the subjects to avoid them being tainted, but it was never perfect, because we were observing something, and they taught us that no matter how careful you are, any observation will affect the outcome."

"Well, at least you know your basic principles," Charlie replied, smiling. "Maybe there's hope for you yet."

Kelly chuckled as they started talking again. After a few seconds she felt this horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach as she watched everyone. She'd been having this nagging feeling for a while, but she'd kept pushing it out of her thoughts … she couldn't ignore it anymore. She sighed and put her cup down. "I think I owe you guys an apology," she said softly. Everyone looked at her.

"For what?" Charlie asked.

"For putting you in the middle of my problems," Kelly replied.

"What are you talking about?" Don asked.

"What's been going on between me and my father," Kelly answered. "I dragged you all into this …."

"Actually, you didn't," Alan said. "It was our choice to get involved."

"But you didn't know what you were getting yourselves into," Kelly replied. "And that wasn't fair to you." She sighed. "You deserve to know the truth."

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Charlie said.

"I want to," Kelly replied. She took a deep breath. "Could you excuse me for a moment, please?"

"Sure," Alan said. Kelly got to her feet and headed out of the living room and up the stairs. Everyone glanced at each other.

"Is she actually doing what I think she's doing?" Don asked.

"I think so," Alan said quietly.

"So, what do we do?" Charlie asked.

"Let her talk," Paul said. "Just … just let her talk." Everyone stayed quiet, waiting for the young woman. After a few minutes Kelly slowly came down the stairs and walked into the living room, holding a folded piece of paper. Everyone watched her stare at a spot on the coffee table, trying to formulate what exactly she wanted to say.

"Um … I guess it's really no big surprise that my father and I are having problems," she said after a few moments. "But not too many people know why … and I think you deserve to know." She paused to take a deep breath. "It began … almost four years ago, actually. I was working on my undergraduate degree in Boston, and Daddy was a Congressman at the time, so he was in D.C. My twentieth birthday was coming up, and Daddy and I talked about what I wanted to do. I thought it might be nice for us to have a low key event – just the two of us – because of how hard we had been working over the past few months, so I suggested the two of us just spend a few days together in L.A. He liked that idea, but he wouldn't be able to fly out until the day before my birthday; he convinced me to go out to L.A. the day before he could fly out and just have some fun on my own, and I agreed.

"So," she continued, "the morning of when I was supposed to leave came, and I slept right through my alarm clock," Kelly continued, her voice shaking as she tried not to cry. "I freaked out and scrambled to get my stuff together, but by the time I was ready to leave my apartment I realized that I wasn't going to make my flight. So, I spent about ten minutes debating what I wanted to do, and I decided to drive down to D.C., surprise Daddy, and then fly out with him to L.A. So, I put my bags in my car, stuck my mp3 player on, and headed off to D.C."

Kelly had to stop as tears started slipping down her cheeks, and everyone watched her with concern and curiosity. She just stared at the coffee table for a few moments, wringing the paper in her hands, and took a shaky breath before continuing.

"It took me about seven hours to reach D.C.," the young woman said softly. "It was about three o'clock when I got to the city limits – traffic was backed up, which was nothing really unusual, but something was wrong; I could feel it. National Guardsmen were stopping all cars before they were allowed to pass. When it was my turn, I asked the guardsman what was going on. He paused and looked at me, as if to ask 'where have you been?' Finally, after a few moments … he got really quiet, and he looked like he was about to cry. He … he told me that four planes had been hijacked and crashed earlier that morning … two at the World Trade Center, one in Pennsylvania … and one at the Pentagon."

"September 11," Larry said quietly. Kelly nodded.

"Honey, that was a horrible day for everyone," Alan said gently.

Kelly shook her head. "There's more," she said quietly. She handed the paper in her hands to Charlie. "Look at the information."

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows as he unfolded the paper; it was an online ticket. Charlie peered closely at the flight information – and sucked in his breath. He slowly looked up at Kelly, almost like he couldn't believe what he was seeing, and she nodded slowly.

"What is it, Charlie?" Don asked.

"It's a printout of Kelly's online ticket from that day," Charlie said quietly. "United Airlines Flight 175." Everyone sat up straighter, looking slightly alarmed.

"Flight 175?" Paul asked. "That was the plane that hit the South Tower."

Kelly nodded. "I was supposed to be on that flight," she said quietly.

"And your father didn't know you missed it, did he?" Alan asked.

Kelly shook her head. "When I told the guardsman who I was he herded me to a safer area, where they tried to find out where my father was and let him know I was alive and safe." She had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying. "Daddy didn't know I hadn't been on that plane until I was brought to him … almost twenty-four hours after the attacks." She shook her head slowly. "For one day … my father believed that those heartless bs took his only child from him."

"That can be hard on any parent," Alan said, glancing briefly at Don.

Kelly nodded. "I know … but Daddy did exactly what Al-Qaeda wanted America to do: he got scared." She took a deep breath. "When I was ten months old, and I had been with Daddy for a couple of days, I was kidnapped by the man who had murdered my mother. After Daddy got me back … he promised that he would never let anyone take me away from him again."

"No wonder why he's made sure you've always had someone with you," Paul said quietly, all the pieces starting to fall into place.

"He didn't want to risk losing me again," Kelly replied. "And I was fine with it … for a while. When I graduated from the University of Massachusetts Daddy convinced me to move to D.C. to do my Masters and Ph.D. work closer to him, which I guess I did because I felt guilty for what he went through because of me."

"And it only got worse after he became the Vice-President?" Don asked.

"No, I just got better bodyguards," Kelly answered, smiling a little bit at Paul; he returned the smile. "And it's not that I don't love him … I love my father more than anyone in the world, and I know he loves me, and I'm proud of him for what he's accomplished. It's just that … he isn't letting me live my life anymore … and I hate him for that, even though I know I shouldn't."

"Have you talked to him about this?" Alan asked.

"I've tried," Kelly replied, "but I can't seem to tell him the reason I'm mad at him is because of him. It's like … I know what I want to say … but lately, it's like every time I see him, I get so mad at him for what he's done to me."

"And you just lash out irrationally," Charlie said quietly.

"Exactly," Kelly replied. "And I don't like doing that. I know I'm not like that, and I hate myself so much every time I do that, especially to people who don't deserve it." By that time she didn't care that her voice was cracking and tears were streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry for how I've acted …." She dropped her gaze and rested her head on her hands, crying softly.

For a few seconds no one moved, not sure what to do, then Alan got up from his chair and walked over, sitting on the other side of Kelly. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug; Kelly buried her head into his chest and continued to cry as Alan just held her. A few more seconds passed and Charlie tentatively put a hand on her shoulder, then Don came over and sat on the coffee table, taking one of Kelly's hands and just holding it. Larry felt sorry for her; he felt like it wasn't his place to go over like the Eppes men did, but he wanted to do something. He fished around in his pockets and found some tissue. He shly stood up and walked over, handing them to Don. Don took them and thanked Larry with a nod, then the physicist stood off to one side. Paul could see Kelly was being taken care of by the others, so he just hung back.

After a few minutes, Kelly's sobs diminished, and Alan slowly pulled back, looking at her. It was a little disconcerting to see someone so strong looking so small and lost. "You know," Alan said softly, "you really do need to sit down and talk with your father about this."

"I know," Kelly said softly. Don handed her the tissues, and she dabbed her eyes, sniffling.

Alan smiled and smoothed some of her hair away from her face, then kissed her forehead. "For now, why don't you go get some rest, okay?" Kelly nodded, and Alan smiled. "Good girl."

Paul decided to step in, and Charlie and Don backed off as Kelly got to her feet. Paul put his arm around her shoulders and led her up the stairs. Don got off the coffee table and went back to his chair.

"Man," he said softly. "Charlie, you were right on the money about her father."

"Not that like, Don," Charlie replied. He shook his head as he looked at the piece of paper still in his hands. "I can't believe how close she came to … being one of them." He looked over at his father. "Do you think she's going to be okay?"

"I don't think she's going to really be okay until she deals with this problem," Alan said. "But I think she feels better now that she's been able to talk about it and not keep it bottled inside anymore." The four just sat there, contemplating what had happened.

- - - -

Paul and Kelly slowly climbed the stairs; Paul had his arm around Kelly, supporting her, and she leaned into him slightly. They wordlessly reached the top and walked down the hall to her bedroom door.

"You want me to tuck you in or anything?" Paul asked softly.

"Will you forgive me?" Kelly asked.

Paul sighed. "There's nothing to forgive, Kelly. Just … just talk to your father, okay?" Kelly nodded, and Paul pulled her into a gentle hug; he kissed her cheek. "Get some rest."

Kelly smiled and walked into her room, shutting the door behind her. She didn't even bother turning on the lights as she took off her shoes and socks; she walked over to the closet to put her shoes up - then she suddenly froze. Something was wrong, she could feel it … like a spider crawling up the back of her neck. The young woman wasn't sure if she was feeling that way because of her current emotional state, but she didn't care; she slowly backed up toward the door. Kelly had taken about five steps when she was suddenly grabbed from behind; a hand another clamped over her mouth.

"Hello, Kelly," a deep voice growled into her ear. "Miss me?"

Kelly recognized the voice, her eyes slowly widening. _Gary_, she thought to herself. _Oh, God._

"Well, I have certainly thought about you, you little b---h," Gary sneered.

Kelly glanced at the wall separating her room from Paul's, and she wished she could get his attention somehow, just make one sound to get him to come to her, but that would require getting her attacker's hand off her mouth. Remembering a few self-defense moves she had picked up, Kelly grabbed the guy's wrist and pulled it forward far enough for her to clamp down hard on her attacker's fingers. He shouted out and threw her roughly against the dresser. Kelly hit the dresser hard, shouting in pain as things fell off, smashing to the floor.

Gary's hand throbbed with pain, but he pushed it aside and dove after Kelly, grabbing her shoulders and throwing her against the closet door. "You are really going to pay for that," he said, clamping his good hand against her neck as he used his other hand to pull a gun from his holster. Suddenly the bedroom door flew open, and Paul came in, carrying his gun. When he saw Kelly being pinned against the wall by a person with a gun, Paul raised his weapon.

"Drop the gun, and let her go!" he shouted. Gary turned around, one hand around Kelly's neck as he put the gun against her head; Paul carefully flipped the light switch on, and his eyes widened when he saw her attacker. Gary simply smirked.

"Well, we got ourselves a nice situation here, don't we?" he said to his one-time partner.

- - - -

Downstairs, the four men had been talking when they heard the sound of things breaking and Kelly shouting. They stopped and furrowed their eyebrows as they got to their feet.

"Drop the gun, and let her go!" they heard Paul shout. The four men froze, staring at each other for a second before Don ran over to where he'd put his holster when he had arrived home. He grabbed his gun and headed for the stairs.

"Stay here, guys," Don said. He saw Charlie running behind him. "Charlie, stay put!" Charlie stopped, startled by the tone of his brother's voice, and waited with his father and Larry in the living room.

Don reached the top of the stairs and saw Paul standing just inside Kelly's door, positioned in such a way that Don knew he was aiming his gun at someone. Taking a deep breath, he held his own gun tightly and hurried down the hall, stopping behind Paul as Paul stood just inside the room. Don looked into the room and saw Kelly being held with a gun to her head by someone he didn't recognize.

"A newcomer," Gary said when he spotted Don.

Don shifted slightly, standing behind and just to the right of Paul, raising his own gun and aiming it over Paul's shoulder at Gary. "Let her go," he demanded through clenched teeth.

"Move aside," Gary replied.

"Not going to happen," Don said.

"Move aside or I blow her brains out right here," Gary demanded.

"Gary, why are you doing this?" Paul asked.

"You know him?" Don asked.

"He used to be my partner," Paul answered.

"Great," Don muttered. _A psychotic Secret Service agent,_ he thought.

"I'm doing this because of her," Gary sneered, grabbing Kelly tighter. "She embarrassed all of us!"

"What are you talking about?" Paul asked.

"Everything she did to us!" Gary replied. "Ever since her father became the VP she's done nothing but humiliate us!"

"That's no reason to do this," Paul said.

"That's every reason to do this!" Gary shouted. "I'm sick of being the punching bag for some spoiled brat! Now, you've got three seconds to let us go – or you get to spend your evening cleaning this room up! One!"

Paul and Don glanced at Kelly, and they could see the fear in her eyes, silently begging them to save her, as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Two!"

"Paul?" Don asked, keeping his gun and eyes trained on Gary.

Paul quickly assessed the situation, and he sighed. "Do it," he said.

"What?" Don asked.

"We can't get a good shot," Paul said.

Don didn't want to cave so quickly, but he knew he and Paul didn't have many options there. He met Kelly's eyes, and he silently told her that everything was going to be okay. He reluctantly backed up, and Paul followed. Both agents kept their guns trained on Gary as they backed into the hallway, separating like French doors, one on each side. Gary kept a tight grip on Kelly and his gun as he dragged her toward the bedroom door.

"Anyone makes a move toward us," he threatened, "and she gets her head blown off."

"Easy," Don said as he and Paul stood still, gripping their guns and staying where they were in the hall. "No one's going to move."

Gary turned around after he passed Don, keeping the young woman between himself and the other two agents, then he backed up toward the stairs.

"Just take it easy," Don said as Gary and Kelly backed down the stairs. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Believe me, I know exactly what I'm doing," Gary said. He reached the foot of the stairs and glanced to the side, seeing Charlie, Alan, and Larry standing in the living room. They stood helpless, watching in horror at seeing Kelly being held with a gun to her head. "Back off or I kill her right now."

"Take it easy," Alan said, holding up his hands. "We're not moving."

Gary nodded and dragged Kelly over to the front door. He released his grip on Kelly's neck to open the door, but he kept the gun pressed against her head, so she didn't move; Gary put his hand back around her neck and dragged her out the front door. Don and Paul ran down the stairs.

"What's going on?" Alan asked.

"Dad, not now," Don said as he and Paul hurried out the door. Charlie knew he was going to be in big trouble afterward, but he couldn't stay there and do nothing; he bolted for the open door.

"Charlie!" Alan shouted, running after his son. Larry sighed, knowing he should stay put, but he followed Alan out the door. He bumped into the back of Alan as he and Charlie stood on the porch; Paul and Don aimed their guns at Gary and Kelly, who both stood about twenty feet from the curb.

"Gary, do you honestly think you're going to get away with this?" Paul said.

"Not really," Gary replied.

"Then you know what will happen to you if you hurt her," Paul said. "Let her go, and maybe we can work something out."

"Don't patronize me," Gary sneered. "The only thing I want out of this is this little b---h dead."

Kelly glanced up at Gary through her tears. As scared as she was at the moment … she was starting to get pd off. She knew what she had to do – and she had only one shot. She took a deep breath, mustering up her courage, and she reached down and grabbed Gary's crotch, pulling and twisting. Gary howled in pain as he released his grip on Kelly but kept a hold of his gun.

"Kelly, move!" Paul shouted.

Kelly bolted to her left, and Gary raised his gun at her, but Paul and Don opened fire on the rogue agent. Six bullets hit Gary square in the chest, but the agent managed to fire off a few rounds before falling to the ground; he lay unmoving. Don and Paul kept their guns trained on the fallen agent as they hurried over; Paul kicked the gun from Gary's hand, and Don watched Gary for any movement.

"He's dead," he said after a few seconds.

Paul sighed with relief, and he glanced over his shoulder. "Kelly, you -" He stopped short, his eyes widening when he saw the young woman sprawled face-down. "Oh, God."

Don looked over as Paul hurried to Kelly and knelt beside her. Don scrambled over and knelt on the other side of the young woman. "Kelly?" he asked.

"My leg," Kelly whimpered.

Don looked down at her right leg – and he sucked in his breath when he saw the dark spot on the right back thigh of her jeans growing larger. "Dn," he whispered. He looked over at the three men standing on the porch as he applied pressure to her wound with his hands. "Get me some towels and scissors; she's been shot!" Alan nodded and ran into house; Larry followed, but Charlie just stayed rooted to his spot, wringing his hands with worry. Kelly whimpered as Don held his hands over her wound. "Sorry, honey.

Paul brought his wrist to his mouth. "This is Agent Holden. I need an ambulance sent to Alpha One. Liberty has been shot. I repeat, Liberty has been shot." He cut transmission and took a shaky breath. "Kelly?"

"My leg hurts," Kelly said, her voice shaking.

"Just take it easy," Don said. He looked at Paul. "Where's the rest of your team?"

"I don't know," Paul replied. "Stay with her; I'll secure the area."

Don nodded, and stayed with Kelly as Paul got up, holding his gun and heading off toward the car parked across the street. Don glanced up and saw Charlie standing on the porch. The agent didn't like the idea of putting his brother in a potentially dangerous situation, but he needed help. "Charlie, get over here!"

Charlie stayed frozen for a moment, his mind racing, but then he jumped into action and flew off the stairs; he ran over and knelt beside Kelly, across from his brother. He tried to keep from panicking as he looked at Kelly and saw the pain in her eyes; he reflexively reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it tight.

"Okay, I need to see if the bullet went through," Don said. "We need to turn her over." He instructed Charlie where to put his hands, and working together the two managed to carefully turn the young woman on her back; Kelly moaned in pain. "Sorry, sweetie." He saw no exit wound or blood on the other side of her leg. "D----t, it's still in there."

"What does that mean?" Charlie asked.

"It means she needs to get to a hospital," Don answered as Alan and Larry came out of the house, carrying towels and a pair of scissors. They hurried over to the trio, and they handed everything to Don. Don used the scissors to carefully cut the jeans above the gunshot wound, then he cut down the length of the pants leg; he tossed the scissors and the fabric aside, then he grabbed a towel and pressed it against the wound. Kelly grimaced. "Sorry, honey."

"Is she going to be okay?" Larry asked.

"She needs to get to the hospital," Don repeated. The towel suddenly felt warm and heavy in his hands; he looked down and saw it was completely soaked through. "She's bleeding out." He grabbed another towel and put it on top of the soaked one.

"Did someone call an ambulance?" Alan asked.

"Paul called for one," Don said. "And the bullet is still in her leg; we can't risk further injury by moving her." He turned and saw Paul run around from the side of the house and hurry over. "So?"

"They're dead," Paul said.

"All of them?" Don asked.

Paul nodded. "How's Kelly?"

"The bullet's still in her leg, and I think she's bleeding out," Don replied. "Where's the ambulance?"

"It's on its way," Paul replied as he knelt beside Don.

"Who was he?" Charlie asked, glancing over at Gary's body.

"He was part of Kelly's detail a while back," Paul answered. "He got suspended for unacceptable behavior."

"He was part of the Secret Service?" Larry asked. "As in the people who are supposed to protect her?"

"Are we in any danger here?" Alan asked. "Should we take cover or something?"

"I don't think so," Paul asked. "Gary was never a team player, and we can't risk moving Kelly with that bullet still in her leg."

Charlie's heart was racing as he held Kelly's hand, and he suddenly felt how cold and clammy it was, how pale her face had gotten … how tired she looked. "Kelly, are you okay?" he asked.

"'m cold," Kelly whispered. "'nd tired."

"She's going into shock," Paul said, putting his gun down and taking off his jacket and putting it over Kelly's shoulders.

"D----t, I'm out of towels," Don said. Everyone glanced down and saw all five towels Larry and Alan had brought were soaked with blood. "Bullet must have severed a vessel. We gotta elevate her leg." Charlie shifted carefully, taking Kelly in his arms as Paul gently elevated Kelly's leg and Don applied pressure against her femoral artery.

"'m scared," Kelly said as a tear slipped down her cheek. "'m never gonna see m' daddy again, 'm I?"

"Don't talk like that," Charlie said, trying to keep his voice from cracking; her accent had come out, thick and sweet, making her sound young and almost honeyed. "You're going to be just fine." She didn't look convinced, and Charlie racked his brain. He suddenly remembered something from earlier that day. "Hey, Kelly, remember when we were talking earlier today, and you mentioned that song your father used to sing to you when you got scared?" Kelly slowly nodded; everyone looked at Charlie, wondering what he was talking about. "Why don't you sing that for us?"

"'m tired," Kelly mumbled, her eyelids drooping.

"Kelly," Alan said gently, kneeling beside Charlie, "I know you're tired, but can you do this for us? Please?"

Kelly blinked slowly, then … "'Why are there … so many … songs about r'nbows,'" she sang softly. "'nd what's … on the … other side? R'nbows … are visions … but only 'lusions … 'nd r'nbows … have n'thin' … to hide."

"Go on, honey," Don said softly. He glanced over his shoulder. Where the hell is that dn ambulance?

" 'So we've …. been told … 'nd some choose … to believe it,'" Kelly continued, her voice getting softer. "' I know … they're wrong … wait and see. S'meday … we'll find it … the r'nbow c'nection … the lovers … the dr'mers … 'nd … me ….'" Kelly trailed off as she slowly closed her eyes.

"Kelly?" Charlie asked. He gently nudged her; nothing. "Kelly?" No response. "Kelly!"

Don brought his hand up and checked her pulse. "It's weak and thready," he said.

Paul brought his wrist up. "Where is the d--n ambulance!" he shouted angrily. Suddenly, everyone heard sirens in the distance, and they all looked in the direction it came from. After what seemed like an eternity an ambulance sped into view, lights flashing and sirens blaring. It pulled up beside the curb and stopped. Two paramedics – one male, one female – jumped out of the cab and hurried to the back, opening the doors and pulled out equipment bags and a stretcher; they wheeled it over and began asking questions and taking charge of the situation, pushing everyone out of the way so they could do their job.

"What happened?" the female paramedic asked as they put on latex gloves before pulling equipment from their bags. She used a pair of scissors to cut Kelly's shirt down the middle and started sticking electrodes on her chest to get her vitals.

"Single gunshot to her back right thigh," Paul answered. "Standard .357 caliber bullet; it's still in there. I think it hit a vessel."

Don, Alan, Charlie, and Larry stood nearby, watching as the paramedics worked on Kelly. Larry saw movement out of the corners of his eyes and looked up; neighbors had come out of their houses and were approaching. He was going to say something, but the sound of more sirens approaching caught his attention. Everyone looked over as a series of government-issued cars sped onto the scene, parking in various locations nearby. Fourteen Secret Service agents, including Kim, quickly got out and began securing the scene and doing everything they had been trained to do for this type of emergency; Kim hurried over to where the Eppes and Larry were standing.

"Looks like the bullet hit her femoral vein," the male paramedic said as he carefully removed the blood-soaked towels and began dressing the wound with thick layers of gauze and tape.

"Agent Holden?" Kim asked Paul. Paul turned around. "I'm Agent Hall. We talked on the phone a few days ago. What happened?"

"BP's seventy over forty-five and dropping," the female paramedic said as she read the monitor. "Pulse is weak and erratic. We need to move her now."

Paul watched as the paramedics took great care to move Kelly onto the stretcher, then he turned to Kim. "She got shot by one of our own," he said quickly. "He killed my entire detail; two are in their vehicle, and the other two are in the backyard; Agent Eppes and I shot him when he attempted to kill Kelly." He glanced back at Kelly as she was being wheeled to the ambulance. "Agent Hall, with all due respect, I will answer your questions, but right now I need to go with her."

"Agent Holden," Kim said, "I know you want to go with her, but there are procedures we have to follow."

"To hell with procedures!" Paul shouted, not caring that everyone stopped and stared at him. "My orders are to stay with and protect Kelly at all costs, and those orders come from the Vice-President himself! You have a problem with that – take it up with him!" He didn't wait for a response as he hurried off after paramedics.

"He's not going to get into trouble, is he?" Don asked.

"No," Kim replied. "I can't get mad at him for being dedicated to his job .…" She glanced uneasily at Don. "You know there's going to be an investigation, right?"

"I know the procedure," Don said. He slowly handed his gun to Kim, who took it; he glanced over at the ambulance.

Kim saw it, and she understood. "Look, guys, um … I can get your statements later if you all want go be with her."

"Thanks," Don said gratefully. He looked at his father, his brother, and Larry. "Guys, I'm going to go tell Agent Holden we're going to follow." He hurried over to the ambulance as Kelly was being loaded into the ambulance; he furrowed his eyebrows when he heard Paul shouting.

"What the hell do you mean, it's going to take half an hour?" Paul asked.

"They had an emergency," the female paramedic said. "We're doing the best we can."

"What's going on?" Don asked.

"They have no blood for Kelly," Paul said angrily. "They said it'll take a half hour to get some transferred from another hospital."

"Wait, I thought you're supposed to keep some aside for emergencies," Don said to the paramedics, getting angry himself.

"There was an emergency tonight, and the blood had to be used, but some more blood is being transferred as we speak," the male paramedic replied.

"What type is she?" Don asked Paul.

"She's type O," Paul said.

"Great," Don muttered. "Look, there's gotta be something you can do."

"We have to wait for the blood to get there," the male said. "That's all we can do."

"Listen here, you son of a b---h," Don said angrily, grabbing the paramedic by his shirt and slamming him into the ambulance door. "That girl is dying! You are not going to sit on your a-- and do nothing, you hear me!"

"Donny, what's going on?" Alan said as he hurried over.

"They have no blood for Kelly," Don replied, angrily. "They said it's going to be half an hour for any blood to be available, and they can't do anything but wait while Kelly bleeds out."

"What type is she?" Alan asked.

"O," Paul replied.

Alan glanced at Kelly as she lay unconscious on the stretcher, an oxygen bag over her face, being worked on by the female paramedic; he took a deep breath. "Take me," he said to the paramedics.

"Dad?" Don asked.

"I have Type O blood," Alan said. "Use me."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," the male paramedic said. "We have to follow procedures; we can't just take someone off the streets."

"Listen here!" Alan said, getting angry and raising his voice. "You have a young girl dying in there. Do you want to tell her father that you let his daughter die because you passed by the one person who could save her life to follow some dn procedure!"

Everyone looked at him, knowing that it was not normal for him to explode like that. Don was in awe at seeing his father like that – and secretly proud of him, too. After a few seconds the paramedics glanced at each other, and the female paramedic nodded.

"Okay," the male paramedic said to Alan. "Get in."

"We'll follow in my car," Don said to Paul.

Paul nodded. "In case we get separated we're going to L.A. County." Don nodded, then hurried over to Charlie and Larry.

Paul and Alan got into the back of the ambulance, and the male paramedic shut the doors before hurrying to the driver's side. He climbed in and started the ambulance; the vehicle pulled away, lights flashing and siren blaring.

"Let's go, you two," Don said to his brother and Larry. "We're going to follow them." He noticed the blood soaked areas on Charlie's pants as his brother looked almost lost standing on the lawn. "Charlie, you okay?"

"Yeah," Charlie said softly, almost like he was distracted. "Don, what … what happened with Dad?"

"He was just making sure they're going to take care of Kelly," Don reassured his brother. He knew that seeing their father explode like that was a bit unsettling for Charlie, but at the same time it was reassuring. He glanced down and really saw the drying blood on his own hands for the first time; he fought back a wave of nausea. "Come on, you two."

"Maybe I should drive," Larry suggested.

Don wanted to say no, that it was his car and he got to drive … but he was too exhausted to argue; even in partial shock, he recognized Larry's 'suggestion' as a statement of fact, and he had to respect that. He simply pulled his keys from his pocket and handed them to Larry. Larry took them, and the three headed for Don's Suburban.

(End of Chapter 13)


	14. Chapter 14

- - - - 

Air Force Two flew through the night air over the Pacific, flanked by two fighter jets. Inside, Cooter sat at his desk in his private office, putting away his work and getting ready to head for his private quarters; he'd had a busy time in China, doing PR with the Prime Minister, touring the country. He glanced up at the framed picture of himself and Kelly he kept on the desk, and he stopped to pick it up, staring at the framed photo taken the day he was sworn in as Vice-President. The politician smiled sadly, thinking about that day … how happy they both had been … how brown her hair had been ….

Cooter put the photo down and let his thoughts drift to his angel. He knew he had reacted to her new hair color with disdain, but the more he thought about it, the more he found himself liking it. He had missed having her on his trip, touring China by his side … knowing how much she would have loved seeing the Forbidden City and also the Great Wall … but he couldn't risk her causing a scene. He sighed, wondering what had happened to his family, but after a few minutes he shook himself from his thoughts and got back to cleaning up. All was quiet for a few moments, then someone knocked on his door.

"Come in," he said. He looked up as his door opened and Agent Jack Casey walked in. "Jack."

"Sir, I just received a communiqué from Los Angeles," Casey said. "It concerns your daughter."

Cooter sighed and rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "What did she do now?" he asked.

Casey swallowed nervously and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Sir, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he said slowly, "but your daughter's been shot."

Cooter's heart skipped a beat as he slowly removed his hand and rose to his feet, staring at his agent with a mixture of anger and concern. "What?" he asked.

Casey nodded. "There was an incident at the Eppes residence," he explained.

"Is she okay?" Cooter asked. Casey pursed his lips, trying to figure out what to say; that pause didn't make Cooter feel any better. "Agent, how is my daughter?"

"She was shot in the thigh, and the bullet hit a vein," Casey said. "She's been taken to L.A. County." He paused. "Sir, they told me she was bleeding pretty badly."

Cooter felt bile rising in his throat. "What does that mean?" he asked softly.

Casey could see the fear in Cooter's eyes, and he really wished he wasn't the one who had to do this. "Sir, they said it doesn't look good." The Vice-President felt the strength leaving his legs, and he sank into his chair, looking stunned. Casey didn't say anything for a few minutes, then decided to speak. "I've already informed the crew of the situation, and they've altered the course; we'll be landing in L.A. in about three hours; a limo is waiting for you, and L.A. County is being secured for her safety. I've also contacted the President and let him know about the situation."

"Thank you," Cooter said softly. "I, uh … I'd like to be alone until we land." Casey nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Cooter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, his hands folded and eyes closed, his voice dropping to a mere whisper.

"Look, I know Kelly and I have had our problems lately … but she's still my daughter … I love her more than life itself, and I'll do anything for her. If You want me to walk away from this, I'll do it … if You want to take someone, take me. I'm begging You … please don't take my baby girl …. I know I don't deserve a second chance … but she does …." He couldn't talk anymore as his voice cracked. His resolve wanted to break, but he couldn't bring himself to let it happen; he had to be strong, for Kelly, so he took about ten shaky breaths before he felt somewhat more composed. He waited a full minute before he felt confident enough to reach for the phone on his desk.

- - - -

The night air in Hazzard was thick with humidity as crickets chirped their songs to a sleepy world. Owls hooted softly in the woods near the Duke farm, and every light was off, save for the porch light. All was right with the world ….

Then the phone rang, jarring the Dukes from their slumber. Bo, heart tripping with dread as it always did when the phone rang after dark, padded barefoot into the kitchen, turning on lights. He yawned and blinked as he picked up the red receiver. "Hello?" he asked, sleepy but ready to snap into action, already praying.

"Bo," Cooter said, his voice shaky and barely composed.

**Balladeer: Now, the Davenports and Dukes are so close that not many words have to be said for them to know what's goin' on in each others lives.**

Bo was instantly awake. "What happened to Kelly?" he asked seriously.

Cooter took a ragged breath. "She was shot, Bo," he said, on the verge of tears. "Some bd shot my baby girl … and they said she's bleedin' so bad … she might not make it."

Bo couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he had to put a hand on the wall to support himself. He glanced over as Luke, Daisy, and Jesse slowly walked in, looking concerned. "What can we do?" he asked Cooter. "We'll be there faster than anythin' if ya need us to be."

"I don't … I don't know, Bo," Cooter said. "I just … we're still three hours from landing. She's dying, and I can't even be with her …." He started breaking, emotionally, thinking about the last time he and Kelly had been together – how angry and frustrated he had been with her … he didn't even say goodbye to her … or that he loved her.

"Cooter, listen to me," Bo said. His heart was pounding, and he felt sick, but he knew he couldn't worry about that right now; he had to be strong, for Cooter. "You know that girl is a fighter; she's been through a lot already, and she's always come out on top … she's gonna be okay."

"But what if I lose her?" Cooter asked. "I … I can't lose her, Bo. I just can't."

"You ain't gonna lose her," Bo replied, firmly, even though he wasn't sure he believed that himself. "Do you want us to come there?"

"No … not … not until I know for sure what's going on," Cooter said. "Just … just pray for my baby girl, Bo."

"We always do," Bo said softly. "Keep us posted, please."

"I will," Cooter replied. "I'll call you later."

"Okay," Bo said. He slowly put the receiver back on its cradle and closed his eyes, both to compose himself and to say a prayer that he wouldn't lose his angel.

"Bo?" Bo turned around when he heard that deep familiar voice of his uncle's, and it was all he could do to keep from breaking down right there. "What happened?"

"Kelly was shot," Bo said softly. Daisy gasped softly and put a hand over her mouth.

"How bad?" Luke asked, putting an arm around Daisy to comfort her.

"Pretty bad," Bo said. He had to bite his lower lip for a moment. "They're fightin' to keep blood in. Cooter said there's a chance she might not make it." His gaze unfocused for a moment, empathy for his friend all but pouring from him. Then he seemed to reach a decision, his eyes coming to rest on his uncle. "Uncle Jesse."

Jesse nodded once and held out both arms. His three charges closed in on him, and when all four of them were linked in a tight huddle, the elderly farmer led them through the night in prayer for their dear friend and their angel-girl.

- - - -

The double doors leading from the outside into the ER opened, and a couple of doctors rushed over as the paramedics wheeled Kelly in on her stretcher. The female paramedic was on one side of the stretcher, holding the oxygen bag over the young girl's face – which was now ashen. The male paramedic ran on the other side of the stretcher, holding blood-soaked gauze against Kelly's leg; he called out the stats to the doctors as they headed down the corridor with Paul, Alan, and a few other agents behind them.

"Female, twenty-three," he rattled off. "Gunshot wound to the right thigh, no exit wound, femoral vein severed, massive bleeding, vitals are not stable."

"We need to intubate," one doctor said. "Prep her to the OR immediately."

"What's the status on the blood?" the other doctor asked.

"Still en route," the first doctor answered. "Where's the emergency donor?" During the trip to the hospital the paramedics had radioed about Alan coming in to do an emergency blood transfusion. The supervisor on duty wasn't thrilled about the situation, but agreed that it was the only solution at the moment.

"Right here," Alan said.

"Sir, I want you to come with me," the second doctor said. She herded Alan down a different corridor with an agent following them. Alan glanced at Paul, and Paul nodded slightly, telling him silently that he would watch over Kelly. Paul then rattled off orders for the other agents before hurrying to catch up with Kelly's stretcher.

- - - -

_One Hour Later …_

Alan was escorted by a Secret Service agent down the corridor to the waiting room. His right arm was wrapped, and he had a half-empty bottle of orange juice in his other hand. They turned a corner and walked into the waiting room, where he saw Charlie and Don sitting in chairs against the back wall; Larry had taken a seat across from them. Four Secret Service agents stood sporadically around the room, guarding the area. Alan stopped just inside the room and looked at his sons and Larry, assessing the situation.

Don looked exhausted, and Alan could see the dried blood on his son's hands and clothes. He then looked at Charlie, and he saw an all-too familiar expression: his younger son sat in his chair, staring numbly ahead at nothing, looking small and tired … reminding Alan of when his wife had been dying; it was something he had hoped he'd never see again. He glanced down and saw the blood on Charlie's clothes, and Alan could only imagine what was going on his son's head. Larry looked the most composed of the three, but the physicist was pale and stared numbly ahead as he leaned forward, resting his head on his hands, his elbows on his thighs. Alan sighed and wearily walked over to the trio; only Larry and Don looked up as he sat down in the chair across from his sons and next to Larry.

"How'd it go?" Don asked.

Alan sighed as he leaned back, feeling slightly light-headed. "Well, no problem taking my blood," he said. "Any word on Kelly?"

"She's still in surgery," Don replied. "We haven't heard anything else yet." He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Kim came a few minutes ago … she had the results of the initial investigation."

"And?" Alan asked.

"It was my fault," Charlie said softly.

"Charlie, it was not your fault," Don replied. He looked back at his father. "Agent Bryant got in by cutting through the tarp on the solarium window … after taking out the entire detail."

"He wouldn't have gotten through the window if I hadn't been up on the roof," Charlie said; he fidgeted, wanted to scribble some equations.

"How can one man do all that and not be noticed?" Alan asked, shooting a worried glance at Charlie.

"Well, it helps to be one of them" Don muttered. "He knew everything about the operation, and he's also an ex-Navy Seal; he was skilled in getting into places undetected."

"So, was he really Agent Holden's partner?" Alan asked.

"Apparently he had made threats against Kelly a couple of weeks ago while on her detail," Larry replied. "He was suspended … they're still trying to figure out how got he the information on Kelly's whereabouts." He glanced over at his young friend. "Charles, you can't blame yourself for what happened. He was determined to kill her; he would have found a way to do that, be it here or somewhere else."

"But it didn't happen 'somewhere else,'" Charlie said. "It happened in my house." He sighed and got up, heading out of the waiting room and down a corridor. Don got up and followed his brother, leaving Alan and Larry.

"He's doing it again," Larry said.

"I know," Alan replied softly. He sighed. "I thought we were over that." He leaned back, worried about Kelly – and now worried about the well-being of his son.

- - - -

The doors to the operating room opened and Kelly was wheeled out slowly by a few doctors in scrubs. She was still out from the anesthetic, hooked up to an IV and heart monitor, a breathing tube up her nose, and her right thigh heavily wrapped in gauze. Paul slowly walked out of the room behind the stretcher, tiredly removing his mask then his gloves; he stopped and leaned against a nearby wall. He had just taken off his cap and gown when Secret Service Agent Murphy, one of the agents Paul remembered seeing from the crime scene, walked up to him.

"Agent Holden," the agent said. "How did it go?"

"They managed to get the bullet out, stop the bleeding, and cauterize her vein," Paul said. He felt a lump forming in his throat. "After she flat-lined three times."

"Dn," Murphy whispered. He looked at Paul. "What are her chances?"

"Well, they stabilized her, but she's still not out of the woods yet," Paul replied, wadding everything in his hands into as tight a ball as he could form. "The next few hours are the most crucial; they're moving her to a private room." He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. "Where's her father?"

"He'll be landing shortly," Murphy replied.

Paul nodded. "Where are Agent Eppes and the others?"

"They're in the waiting room," Murphy replied.

"Let them know how she's doing," Paul replied before he headed down the hall to catch up with Kelly, tossing his surgical attire into a nearby disposal bin along the way.

- - - -

Don sat in his chair, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He hated waiting rooms; they were full of nothing but agony. His stomach hurt, more than it had in a long time. The entire scene kept replaying in his head … even when he closed his eyes he could still see her face, how she pleaded to him with her eyes to save her … how he had failed her.

"Donny?"

Don looked up when he heard his father's voice. "Yeah?" he asked softly.

Alan was worried for Don; he looked lost as he sat across from him, and Alan could only imagine what was going through his son's mind. He knew his son hated having to shoot anyone, but this shooting had been very personal … and Alan wasn't sure what his son was thinking. He opened his mouth but then Agent Murphy approached.

"I have an update on Kelly's condition," he said. The four men looked up. "She's out of surgery, and she's been moved to a private room."

"How is she?" Alan asked.

"They were able to remove the bullet, cauterize her vein, and stop the bleeding," Murphy answered. "She's stabilized for now, but she's not out of the woods just yet." He wasn't sure if he was permitted to tell them about what had happened to Kelly in the operating room.

"And?" Alan asked. "Agent, what aren't you telling us?"

"Sir, I'm telling you everything I can," Murphy replied.

Alan slowly got to his feet, glaring at the agent. "Let me tell you something right now, Agent," Alan replied, his voice deadly low. "That girl is as much a part of this family as my own sons are; she was entrusted to us by the Vice-President himself, and you are not going to stand there and give us that 'I'm telling you everything I can' crap without telling us everything. Now you tell us everything, dt – otherwise things are going to get very, very painful for you."

Everyone looked at Alan, not sure what to make of the man who didn't care that he had just publicly threatened a federal agent, but they all knew that Alan meant every word of what he said. Charlie, Don, and Larry glanced at Murphy, wondering what he would do.

Murphy sighed. He could just arrest Alan, but he would be in a lot of trouble for it; he knew that they all just wanted to know how Kelly was doing. "Well, uh," he said slowly, "there was a small problem in the operating room."

"What kind of problem?" Alan asked, feeling angry and worried at the same time.

Murphy took in a deep breath. "She flatlined on the operating table," he said quietly. Don sighed and slowly ran a hand over his face, willing himself not to break. Charlie just lowered his gaze, staring at the floor. Larry looked up in disbelief, and Alan just stared at Murphy, stunned. "She is fine, though. She's stable, and if she's anything like what I've been told about her … she'll be up and terrorizing again in no time." He smiled briefly before turning and leaving them.

Alan slowly sat in his chair, trying to process what they'd just been told. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, at least she's going to be okay," he said, trying to sound optimistic. He had to be the strong one … he couldn't break – especially not in front of his sons.  
Another Secret Service approached the four. "Agent Eppes?" he asked. Everyone slowly looked over.

"Yeah?" Don asked.

"There are some people who need to talk to you," the agent replied. "Could you come with me, please? It's just down the hall a bit."

"Go," Alan said to his son. "If anything changes I'll let you know."

Don nodded and slowly got to his feet, following the Secret Service agent down the corridor. Don kept his gaze at the ground as he walked with the agent; when they stopped Don looked up – and he saw David, Megan, and Colby; they looked at him with concerned expressions.

Don looked very surprised to see them. "Guys, what are you doing here?" he asked. He glanced at David; Don had called his partner on the way to the hospital and told him that Kelly had been hurt and they were on the way to L.A. County, but that was it. Don's eyes asked David for an explanation.

"You sounded like you could use some support," David replied.

"So, you called out the Cavalry?" Don asked; he tried to smile, but he knew he was grimacing instead.

David smiled briefly. "So what happened?" he asked. "The outside's crawling with reporters and security."

Don took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Kelly was shot by a Secret Service agent who used to be on her detail," he said.

"Oh, my God," Colby replied. "What happened?"

"He was suspended, so they're looking into how he got that information in the first place," Don explained, "but he managed to kill Kelly's entire outside detail before breaking into the house and taking her hostage." He had to pause as the entire scene replayed in his head, her eyes pleading to him.

"Don?" Megan asked, seeing his glassy-eyed looked.

Don snapped out of his stupor. "Uh, yeah?" he asked slowly.

"Are you okay?" Megan asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Don said, putting on his 'I'm okay' face. Megan – as well as David and Colby – could see right through it, but they didn't say anything. "Uh, anyway, Agent Holden and I tried to diffuse the situation, but he got out the house before we could get a clean shot. We both took him down, but he still managed to shoot off a few rounds; one of them caught Kelly in the leg."

"Is she okay?" Megan asked.

"The bullet severed her femoral vein," Don answered slowly. "She bled out badly … but Dad was a donor match, so he was able to donate. They did get her vein cauterized and the bleeding stopped, and she's stable … for now." He paused, not really sure how to tell them what had happened to her in the operating room.

"What is it?" David asked.

Don swallowed. "She … she flatlined on the operating table," he said after a few seconds.

Megan could see Don was still in shock; it was written all over his face. "Don, are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine, okay?" Don said angrily. "You should be asking about the others. Kelly's not out of the woods yet, Charlie's blaming himself for this whole mess, and Dad and Larry are dealing with this God only knows how." He stopped to catch his breath as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. After a few moments he sighed, his expression softening. "Sorry, guys … I … I just …."

"It's okay," David said, understanding. "Look, go be with your family, Don. We'll go. Just keep us posted when you can."

Don nodded. "I'll do that," he said. He looked at all of them. "Thanks …."

David nodded back and then herded Megan and Colby down the hall. Don watched them walk away, grateful he had partners – and more importantly friends – like them. After they disappeared around the corner Don turned and slowly walked back to the waiting room.

- - - -

Limo Two pulled up to the curb beside the hospital, and an agent walked over to the car and opened the back door. Cameras flashed and reporters started bombarding Cooter with questions as he got out, but he ignored them as he headed up the walk, agents on both of his sides and behind him. The automatic doors to the hospital opened, and Cooter quickly walked in, heading down the hall. The agent who had talked with Paul earlier rushed up to him and walked beside him.

"Sir, your daughter's been moved to a private room, and Agent Holden is keeping an eye on her," the agent said.

"How is she?" Cooter asked.

"She's stable," the agent replied, "but she's still not out of the woods yet."

Cooter swallowed to keep the lump in his throat from dissolving. He slowed down when he saw a familiar figure standing just outside the waiting room, looking tired. Cooter found himself slightly surprised that that person was there, but at the same time the Vice-President was very relieved to see him; he walked up to the man.

"He's with me," he said to the agents as he looked at his friend; the agents simply nodded. Cooter glanced into the waiting room and saw Alan sitting with Charlie, Don, and an unfamiliar red-haired man; the four of them locked eyes with the Vice-President, but Cooter would deal with them later. He motioned for his friend to walk with him as he headed down the corridor to his daughter's room.

"Is it true?" Enos asked quietly. "They said on the news she got shot."

"Yeah, it's true," Cooter said. "Bullet in the leg … she was bleeding out pretty badly. They managed to stabilize her … but that's all I know."

"Did ya call the Dukes?" Enos asked.

"Yeah, did it as soon as I found out," Cooter said.

"Well, no doubt they got the entire county prayin' for Kelly by now," Enos replied. Cooter simply nodded. They stopped a few seconds later in front of Kelly's bedroom door. Enos put his hand on Cooter's shoulder, and Cooter looked up at his friend. After a few moments they hugged each other tightly.

"I shoulda known you'd be here," Cooter said softly.

"How could I pass up a chance ta chase you around?" Enos answered, his tone low and quiet.

"I don't want to lose her," Cooter whispered after a few seconds of silence.

"Ya ain't gonna lose her," Enos replied. "Ya know how much of a fighter she is." He pulled back and glanced at the door. "Go be with your angel." He left Cooter's side and slowly walked down the corridor with one of the agents accompanying him.

Cooter put his hand on the doorknob; he hesitated, not sure if he was ready for whatever was on the other side, but he wanted to be with his baby girl more than anything in the world at the moment. He mustered up all the courage he could and turned the knob, opening the door.

The room was on the large size and darkened; the far wall contained only a single window, curtains and blinds drawn. Pushed against the middle of the wall, projecting out into the middle of the room, was a bed – and his daughter lay in it, hooked up to numerous machines, her eyes closed. Paul sat next to the bed, gently holding one of her hands. He looked up as the door opened, and he carefully let go of Kelly's hand and got to his feet, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.

"It's okay," Cooter said softly. "Don't go." He glanced down at his daughter; if he didn't know better he would have believed Kelly was sleeping and not fighting for her life. "How is she?"

"She's strong, sir," Paul said, his voice just as low. "I was with her the entire time … and she never once gave up."

"What happened?" Cooter asked.

"They're still conducting the investigation, sir," Paul said, "but what we know is that Agent Bryant was able to get inside the Eppes residence, and he took Kelly hostage."

"Agent Bryant?" Cooter asked. "He was on suspension. How did he get information on where Kelly was, much less get inside the Eppes' house?"

"They're still trying to figure that one out, sir," Paul said. "But he gained access to the Eppes residence by killing my entire team."

Cooter swore under his breath. "Continue," he said.

"Kelly was going to bed, and he took her hostage in her room," Paul replied. "Agent Eppes and I did what we could, but we couldn't get a good shot without hitting Kelly; we had to let him take her outside … he said he would kill her if we didn't let him leave. I thought … I thought the others would be there to help; I didn't know he had killed them." He had to stop and compose himself, taking a shaky breath.

Cooter looked over and saw the turmoil in the agent's eyes; he sighed as he walked over and put a hand on Paul's shoulder. "Agent … Paul," he said gently. Paul looked up; that was the first time Cooter had ever called him by his first name … and that was a little unsettling – and reassuring at the same time; he took a deep breath. "What happened?"

Paul sighed and told the story, everything from Kelly getting shot, to what the Eppes and Larry had done to help save her life; he reluctantly told Cooter about what had happened in the operating room, and he watched Cooter's face pale two shades.

"But she came back, sir," Paul reassured the Vice-President. "She fought her way back all three times; she did not want to give up." He smiled a little at the Vice-President. "You did a good job of raising her, sir." Cooter was deeply touched by that comment, but all he could do at the moment was nod his appreciation, and Paul seemed to sense that. "I'll leave you with her, sir." He headed for the door.

"Thank you," Cooter said. "For everything."

Paul stopped and turned around. "My pleasure, sir."

"Could you bring them back here in about half an hour?" he asked. "All four of them?"

"Of course," Paul said. He quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

The Vice-President just stood at the foot of his daughter's bed, watching her, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor making the only noise. After a few seconds he slowly walked over to the chair and sat down, gently picking up his daughter's hand and rubbing it softly. He leaned over and smoothed a stray strand of hair from her forehead, tenderly tucking it behind her left ear.

"You sure know how to get my attention, don't you, pumpkin?" he asked softly. He closed his eyes briefly, squeezing them tight, trying to keep the tears from falling, but it was useless. "Kelly, I know we've had a lot of problems lately, but whatever I did to make you hate me so much … please forgive me. I love you so much, baby, and I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier. Just … please don't leave me …." He trailed off as his resolve broke and he held her hand close as he lowered his head, crying … crying for his angel.

- - - -

The four men slowly walked down the corridor, flanked on all sides by Secret Service agents as Paul led them to Kelly's room. They didn't say anything as they stopped in front of the door. Paul opened the door and stood aside, allowing the four men to go in. The agents waited outside as Alan, Charlie, Don, and Larry walked inside; Paul shut the door behind them.

Cooter looked up, seeing the men standing near the door, staring at his daughter; he knew they were very disturbed seeing her like that – and then he saw the blood on Don and Charlie … and he had to push down a wave of nausea. He got to his feet and walked over. "Thank you for coming," he said softly.

"How is she?" Alan asked, trying to stay strong; seeing Kelly like that brought back memories of his wife … he could only imagine how his sons were handling this situation.

"She's stabilized, for now," Cooter said, "but … she's not out of the woods yet." He swallowed to keep from crying.

"Is there anything we can do?" Don asked.

"You've done enough," Cooter replied. "Agent Holden informed me that you all saved her life. I can't begin to thank you for that."

"We did what we had to," Don said. "No regrets."

"D … Daddy?" a small voice, sounding more like the wind whispering, called out.

Cooter jerked his head over and saw his daughter's eyes blinking slowly. He rushed over to his chair and sat down, tenderly taking her hand, trying not to cry as he smiled as best he could, wanting to hold her but knowing the machines were preventing him from doing that. "Hey, sweetie," he whispered. "I'm here, baby, I'm here."

"Where … where am I?" Kelly asked, looking around, her eyes clouded over.

"You're in the hospital," Cooter replied. "You got shot … remember?"

"Oh … yeah," Kelly said softly.

"How do you feel?" Cooter asked.

"Funky," Kelly answered. "'nd hungry …."

"We'll try to get some food later," Cooter said. "I promise."

"'kay," she replied. She glanced over and saw her leg propped up and heavily wrapped. "My leg …." She saw her four friends standing near the door, and she gave a drugged smile as the medicines in her IV started kicking in. "Hey, dudes."

"Hey, you," Alan said, stepping forward, smiling warmly at her. "How are you feeling, honey?"

"I think the medicines are working," Kelly said slowly. She snickered. "I can't feel my leg." She glanced at her father. "Ooh, it's a big sheepdog."

"She's hallucinating," Larry asked, not sure if he should be concerned or relieved.

"Nah, she ain't," Cooter said, smiling a little. "She's just teasin' me."

"Now, I ain't a tease," Kelly said, slipping into a deep Southern accent. "Ain't been one since high school, Daddy, remember?" In spite of the seriousness of everything, Cooter smiled, knowing Kelly was on the road to recovery, which that made him feel a lot better.

"I think it might be time for us to go," Alan replied; he glanced over at Charlie and saw him standing near the door, looking small and scared, trying to hide in the shadows. He tried not to appear worried as he turned back to Kelly, smiling. "You get some rest, sweetie, okay?"

Kelly slowly nodded. "Could you do me something when you get back?" she asked seriously.

"Sure," Don said. "What do you want us to do?"

"Make sure the pickles and elephants get put into the dryer," Kelly replied. Alan, Larry, and Don glanced at each other, knowing the medicines were really starting to kick in.

"Sure," Don replied slowly. "We'll do that as soon as we get home."

"Thank you," Kelly replied.

"Oh, could you send Agent Holden in, please?" Cooter asked Alan. Alan nodded and herded everyone out of the room. A few moments later Paul came in.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Paul asked. He saw Kelly awake, and he smiled, relieved. "Hey, you."

"Hey, double oh seven," Kelly replied.

Paul raised an eyebrow, but he figured the meds were taking effect. He simply nodded before turning to Cooter. "Do you need me, sir?"

"I want minimal disturbance," Cooter said. "Everyone has to be cleared before entering this room." He could see Kelly's eyes drooping and knew she was getting tired. "Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Paul said. He left, closing the door behind him.

Cooter looked back at his daughter. "Why don't you get some rest, pumpkin?" he asked. Kelly's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. "Honey, what's wrong? Are you hurting?"

Kelly slowly shook her head. "I saw her."

"Saw who?" Cooter asked.

"Momma," Kelly whispered. Cooter stiffened a little. He wasn't sure if Kelly was delusional or not, but it still struck a chord with him … especially after what she had been through. "She said it wasn't my time to go yet … that I had to stay here."

"Well," Cooter said, trying to keep his voice from wavering, "she was right, sweetie. It ain't your time."

Kelly nodded, and she sighed. "Daddy … we need to talk."

Cooter nodded. "Yeah, we do," he said. "But you need to get some rest first, okay?"

"'kay," Kelly said, yawning. "Will you stay with me?" she whispered as she closed her eyes.

"Of course," Cooter said. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Kelly. I love you."

"Love you too, Daddy," Kelly whispered as she drifted off to sleep. Cooter sat next to her bed and held his daughter's hand, keeping a constant vigil over his precious angel.

- - - -

Hours later, it almost seemed as if the entire hospital was asleep. Several agents took up post around the hospital, and four guarded the door leading to Kelly's room, including Paul. Inside the room, Cooter sat in the chair, sleeping, still holding Kelly's hand; Kelly lay sound asleep, her vitals steady, the monitor beeping softly.

In the darkness of the shadows the grate covering the vent of the air conditioning shaft suddenly swung out, but a gloved hand caught it before it could bang into anything. A rope was lowered into the room, and soon a dark figured climbed down the rope, landing softly a few feet from the bed. The figure glanced around carefully, making sure no one woke up. He knew what would happen if he got caught, but he also knew he had a mission to accomplish – and nothing was going to keep him from that.

The figure padded quietly over to the bed on three layers of thick socks, and he stared at the young woman. He paused for a moment and tilted his head, then he leaned over and gently brushed a finger again her cheek; the young woman sighed and shifted a little, but she didn't wake up. After she settled back against her pillows the figure took in a deep breath and reached into the bag tied around his waist. He pulled out an object and checked it over carefully before gently tucking it under Kelly's free arm.

"Now, we're even," he whispered softly before padding back over to the rope and climbing back up. He replaced the grate in its original position; he breathed a sigh of relief as he crawled away, glad that he hadn't been caught.

- - - -

The next morning, Paul quietly opened the door to Kelly's room and stuck his head in, checking in on the Davenports. He smiled a little when he saw them still sleeping, then his eyes fell on the object under Kelly's arm – and his smile abruptly faded. Everyone who had gone into that room had been checked thoroughly, and there was nothing unusual found on any of them. He also knew that Cooter had not left Kelly's side all night, so the object could not have come from him. He turned to the other agents.

"Get me a HAZMAT team here now," he said keeping his voice low so he wouldn't wake either father or daughter.

"What's going on?" an agent asked as all the agents stood up, looking concerned.

"Just do it," Paul said. "Be discreet about it. And get me a sterilization bag or something." Two agents nodded and hurried down the office, speaking into their wrist radios. Paul turned to the remaining agent. "Stay here." He hurried into the room and over to Cooter's side. "Sir, wake up." Cooter slowly stirred. "Sir." Cooter's eyes opened. "Sir, I don't want to alarm you, but we have a situation."

Cooter was instantly awake, and he glanced at his daughter; she slept soundly. "I don't understand," he said.

Paul nodded at the object under Kelly's arm. "That, sir."

Cooter finally noticed the object; he slowly tilted his head. "Now, how did that get in here?" he asked, his tone oddly gentle.

"We don't know, sir," Paul replied. "I have to get this out of here; it might be contaminated, sir." He reached for the object, but Cooter stopped him.

"That won't be necessary," Cooter said.

"Sir, with all due respect -"

"Paul, trust me on this, okay?" Cooter asked. "If I felt there was a danger to Kelly, don't you think I'd be the first person working on getting her out of harm's way?"

"Yes, sir," Paul said.

"Then just trust me," Cooter said. "She's fine."

Paul looked a little hesitant, but he knew to trust Cooter; he nodded and brought his wrist to his mouth. "Cancel HAZMAT team," he replied. "I repeat, cancel HAZMAT team." He waited for an affirmative response, then turned to Cooter. "May I ask why you're not worried about this, sir?"

Cooter smiled and put his hand on the agent's shoulder. "Just trust me," he said. He heard a small yawn and turned to see Kelly waking up; he sat down and picked up his daughter's hand, kissing it. "Good morning, pumpkin."

"Hi," Kelly whispered.

"How you feelin'?" Cooter asked.

"Hungry," Kelly replied. Cooter glanced at Paul, and he nodded.

"I'll see what I can do," Paul said before leaving the room.

"What's this?" Kelly asked, noticing the object in her arm for the first time. She slowly looked up at her father. "When did -"

"I have no idea," Cooter replied. "But when I find out … I can guarantee you someone's gonna be feelin' a lot of pain." Kelly smiled and snuggled with the object as she settled against her pillows, waiting for breakfast.

(End of Chapter 14)


	15. Chapter 15

- - - - 

_Three Days Later …_

Alan and Don sat in the living room watching a baseball game on television. They had been there for about an hour, and they were enjoying the game, but every once in a while one of them would glance over at the dining room table, where Charlie was working. Since the morning after Kelly had been shot Charlie had taken papers, pencils, and markers with him to the table, saying he had a project he wanted to finish; he hadn't moved since then (save for the occasional pit stop), hovering over numbers and equations, refusing to talk to anyone. Needless to say, this worried Alan and Don, and even Larry, who had all tried to talk to him, but they couldn't reach him. Finally, they stopped trying, since he wasn't physically hurting himself – he was eating and taking naps (they would have preferred him getting real rest, but they would take what they could.)

"So, what do we do?" Don asked softly as they turned back toward the television. "I thought we were past this whole thing."

"I don't know," Alan replied. "I thought we were, too, Donny, but …." He trailed off and sighed. The doorbell rang, and Don sighed as he got to his feet and went to answer it. He opened the door and saw two Secret Service agents standing on the porch; he remembered seeing them at L.A. County.

"Can I help you?" he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows, feeling a little concerned as to why they were there. "Is everything okay?"

"Stand aside, please," one of the agents said before he and his partner walked into the house, barely giving Don time to step to the side. He watched as one of the agents walked up the stairs while the other did a visual sweep of each room as Alan watched with a curious expression; Charlie didn't even acknowledge the agents' presence. After a few minutes the two agents converged in the foyer; one of the agents brought his wrist to his mouth.

"All clear," the agent said.

"What is going on here?" Don asked. "If I don't get some answers soon, then I'm going to -"

"You're going to what, Agent Eppes?" Don turned and saw Cooter standing in the front door, smiling. "Are you making threats against my agents?"

"No, sir," Don replied quickly. "I was just wondering why they were here." He could feel his cheeks getting warm.  
"Well, they have to make sure the place is secure before we enter," Cooter said.

Don tilted his head as Cooter came in. "'We?'" he asked.

"You got a problem with that, Don?"

Don turned his head and saw Kelly standing on the porch with Paul behind her. Kelly wore a pair of royal blue drawstring shorts with white stars all over it, and a black oversized shirt with the words 'Carpe Diem' across the front in bold white letters. She wore tan, open-toed Terrasoles, and her hair was pulled back into a French braid. Her right thigh was heavily wrapped in gauze, and she hobbled in on a pair of crutches, balancing on her left leg and crutches; she smiled brightly.

"Hi, Don," she said.

Don broke out into a grin. "Hey, look at you," he said. He glanced over at his father, who had already made a beeline over, grinning; Don glanced at Charlie, and the mathematician did look over, but it was brief; Charlie quickly turned back to his work. Don shook his head a little and sighed, but then he looked at the young woman, smiling. "Honey, you look great."

"Considering how the last time you saw me I was in a hospital bed," Kelly said, "I'll take that as a compliment." She winced a little as she shifted her weight.

"Why don't you come and sit down?" Alan suggested.

"I'll go get your things, pumpkin," Cooter said. He kissed her cheek and headed up the stairs, with an agent following him.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Paul said to the remaining agent, who nodded and headed out the front door, closing it behind him.

With three men helping her, Kelly slowly hobbled over to the living room couch and carefully sat down on the cushions, hissing softly. "Son of a …," she whispered.

"They started weaning her off her meds this morning," Paul explained as he took the chair next to the couch. Don and Alan nodded, understanding, as they took their seats.

"Well, I must say you look a lot better, Kelly," Alan said. "Though shouldn't you still be in the hospital?"

"I heal quickly," Kelly replied. "I used to get injured a lot when I was younger, and my body decided that 'hey, who knows how quickly she'll get injured again, so we better get her fixed up lickety split.'" She glanced over at Charlie at the table, and she smiled. "Hey, Charlie." Charlie didn't even look up as he continued writing; she furrowed her eyebrows at Alan and Don.

"Charlie's still dealing with what happened," Don said. He knew Kelly had enough on her plate without having something else to worry about.

"I guess we're all still dealing with it," Kelly said quietly. Her psych-o-meter was buzzing like crazy; there was more to what was going on with Charlie than Don was saying, but she didn't feel like it was her place to ask. She nodded and looked back at the two Eppes men, taking a deep breath and smiling.

"So, you're out, huh?" Alan said. "We didn't hear anything about your release."

"We wanted some privacy," Kelly replied. "The press still thinks I'll be in for another three days. That will give us plenty of time to get to LAX and on Air Force Two."

"You're leaving?" Don asked, a slight hint of disappointment in his voice; he'd never admit it, but he was getting used to having Kelly around … and he knew he'd miss her.

"Daddy and I managed to do some talking while I was recovering," Kelly said. "And we realized we have a lot of talking we need to do." She sighed. "We're going to take a little vacation to sort through … everything."

"Sounds to me like it will do both of you a world of good," Alan said sincerely.

"Yeah, I think so too," Kelly replied. "So, we're going to just spend some time by ourselves … and do some major damage control."

"So, where are you going?" Don asked.

"Well, I know you guys won't talk," Kelly said. "The President called yesterday, and he has given Daddy and me permission to go to Camp David. It's very secluded, so no one will be able to disturb us."

"Talk about friends in high places," Alan replied.

"One of the perks of being the Vice-President's daughter," Kelly said, smiling. She glanced over as Cooter came downstairs, carrying a luggage bag in one hand and Jeffery in his other hand; the agent following him waited near the door as Cooter walked over to the group.

"I think I have everything," he said. "Ready to go?"

"Um, yeah," Kelly said slowly. She carefully stood up, using her crutches for support as Paul, Don, and Alan got to their feet; she carefully balanced on the crutches, smiling. "Ready to rock." She glanced at Don and Alan. "After I say my goodbyes." She hobbled over to Don and carefully hugged him. "Take care, Don."

"You too," Don said, gently hugging her back.

"And thanks for shooting that son of a b---h," Kelly added.

Don chuckled. "You're welcome, sweetie," he said.

Kelly pulled back, then turned to Alan, who had decided to come to her. He gently put his arms around her, hugging her. "They told me what you did for me," she whispered. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome, honey," Alan said softly. "But just remember something important."

"What?" Kelly asked, pulling back and looking up at him.

"You're one of us now," Alan said conspiratorially. "You've got Eppes blood in you."

"Cooties and all," Don added seriously as his eyes twinkled.

Kelly grinned, then glanced at Charlie, trying to figure out what she was going to do with him. After a few seconds, she hobbled over to her father. "Daddy, can I have Jeffery, please?" she asked.

"Sure," Cooter replied, handing the stuffed giraffe to his daughter. Everyone watched curiously as she carefully held it in one of her hands as she hobbled over to the table. She gently sat down in the empty chair next to Charlie; she propped her crutches up nearby then turned to the mathematician.

"Hi, Charlie," she said softly. He didn't even look up. "Charlie, I'm going to be leaving for a while, but I was wondering if you could do something for me while I'm gone." She waited for a response; nothing. She sighed and put Jeffery on the table in front of him. "Could you keep an eye on him for me while I'm away?"

Charlie paused, but he waited a few seconds before looking up at the stuffed animal, then he slowly glanced at Kelly. After a few moments of silence he went back to his work. "Sure," he said slowly. "I guess."

Kelly knew something was really bothering him, and she knew it had to deal with the shooting. Truth be told, it still bothered her, but she was more concerned about Charlie. She could see how hard he was trying to process everything … she could see the fear in his eyes. She was tempted to ask her father to postpone the trip, but it wasn't like Charlie was going to be left alone; he had his family, and she knew they'd be able to help him. She sighed and smiled a little.

"I have to go," she said. "Daddy and I are going to Camp David for a while, but I wanted to thank you first." She leaned over and gently kissed his cheek, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Thank you for the rainbows."

Charlie stopped writing, and he visibly stiffened, but he was too scared to look up at her. He forced himself to keep his composure … he had to keep his composure. After what seemed like an eternity he went back to scribbling, drowning himself in numbers and equations, blocking out the entire world.

Kelly could see him struggle, then she saw him mentally block everything out, including her. She wanted to do something more, but she didn't want to push him away. She sighed as she grabbed her crutches and carefully balanced herself on them, hobbling back over to the four men watching her; she tried to smile as best she could. "I'm ready," she said.

Alan put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, sweetie," he said. "We'll keep an eye on him." Kelly nodded and turned to her father; Cooter saw the expression in her face and understood.

"Well, we have a plane to catch," he said. He shook hands with Alan and Don, then he and Paul helped Kelly as she hobbled over to the front door. Don and Alan followed as the trio headed out of the house, watching as they made their way to the limo waiting by the curb; four cars formed a cavalcade in front of and behind the black car. Kelly, Cooter, and Paul got into the limo, and the two Eppes men watched as the cars pulled away. They waited until the caravan was out of sight before going back into the house.

Inside the limo, Cooter glanced at Kelly, raising an eyebrow. "'Rainbows?'" he asked. "What about 'rainbows?'"

Kelly glanced over, smiling. "I'll tell you when we get to Camp David," she said as she leaned against him, closing her eyes. "Promise."

Cooter put an arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead. He saw Paul watching father and daughter with a smile on his face as he sat on the opposite side of the limo. Cooter smiled back before leaning his head against his daughter's.

- - - -

Marine Two touched down perfectly on the helipad at Camp David hours later, and the Marines that flanked the sidewalk stood at attention as the side door opened. Paul turned and helped steady Cooter as the Vice-President stepped out of the chopper with Kelly in his arms. While another agent grabbed the Davenports' luggage, Cooter carried his daughter down the walk to where a limo was waiting, the back door held open by another agent; Paul followed behind them. The Marines saluted their Vice-President, and Cooter gave his daughter an entreating look; the young woman saluted the Marines back for her father. The Vice-President reached the car and carefully climbed in, holding onto his daughter. Paul climbed in as the other agents loaded the luggage into the trunk, then the back door was closed, and the limo pulled away.

Kelly watched the scenery go by through the tinted window as she sat in her father's lap. She had never been at Camp David before, and part of her wanted to explore the grounds, but she knew there were more important things to take care of; she snuggled against her father's chest, resting her head in the soft spot on his shoulder. After a few minutes, the limo stopped in front of a guest house; the limo door opened, and Cooter carefully got out, holding Kelly in his arms. Paul exited behind them and got the luggage from the trunk before following the two to the front door.

(End of Chapter 15)


	16. Chapter 16

- - - - 

_One Week Later …_

Alan and Don were in the kitchen, cleaning up after lunch; Alan washed the dishes, while Don wiped the counters with a dishrag. They worked in a silent rhythm that only fathers and sons knew … and it was strangely comforting to both men. Things were … tense in the household – they had been for days – so Alan and Don, knowing there wasn't much they could do that they hadn't already done, just … cleaned. Don had just finished wiping the last countertop when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Don said. He left his towel on the counter and headed out of the kitchen, making his way to the front door; he opened it and saw Paul standing on the porch, with a luggage bag on his shoulder. Don smiled. "Agent Holden. What brings you out here? Aren't you supposed to be with Kelly?"

"He is," Kelly said, peeking around her bodyguard, grinning from ear to ear.

"Kelly," Don said, breaking into a big smile. Paul smiled and stood aside so Don could get a better look at the young woman.

Kelly stood on the porch, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail; she wore a white tank top, blue jeans, and tan sandals – and no crutches. Don stepped out onto the porch and hugged her tightly but gently; he held her for a few moments before letting her go and stepping back.

"Look at you," he said. "No crutches."

"Yeah, but I'm still not completely recovered," Kelly said.

"And she's supposed to be staying off her feet," Paul pointed out.

"I think we can take care of that," Don said, a twinkle in his eyes. He picked Kelly up, chest to chest, and carried her easily into the living room, with Paul following; Don set her gently on the couch. "There." He turned and grinned as Alan walked out of the kitchen. "Hey, Dad, they're punting angels out of Heaven again. Should I put her with the others?"

"Nah," Alan said, smiling as he walked over, sitting on the coffee table, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Kelly. "I think we can make an exception with this one."

Kelly grinned and leaned over, hugging Alan. "Hey, Alan," she said, nuzzling against him.

Alan closed his eyes for a moment, then he kissed her forehead before pulling back. "Honey, you look great."

"Thanks," Kelly replied, leaning against the couch as everyone took seats nearby.

"So, how are you doing?" Don asked.

"Better," Kelly answered. She would never just open up with anyone, but she could literally trust these men with her life; it felt really comfortable talking to them. "Daddy and I were able to work through a lot of our problems." She paused to choose her words carefully. "It took a while to actually get everything out in the open, but we finally did and realized that it wasn't entirely my fault or Daddy's fault … it was both of us who contributed to what happened."

"And?" Don asked, slowly. He wanted to know what had happened, but he also knew that meant talking about the private life of the Vice-President … and he wanted to tread very carefully.

"We realized it's going to take some time for this to work out," Kelly said, "but we're going to do our best: he's going to start treating me like an adult … and I'm going to start acting like one."

The two Eppes men knew that it must have taken a lot of pride swallowing - and stepping up and owning their behavior and taking responsibility - from both father and daughter, but they smiled. Kelly looked a lot better – emotionally – since the last time she had been there; there was a new radiance in her eyes … one they knew had probably been missing for a long time.

"Well, we're really happy for both of you," Alan said. "But that doesn't explain what brings you back to us."

"I have a punishment to finish," Kelly replied, smiling, feeling warm inside when she heard the sincerity in Alan's voice … how much they had missed her; she looked up and saw their blank stares. "Remember – that's why I came out here in the first place; I still have four days left."

"And I'm sure those are going to be the worst four days of your life," Don grinned, his eyes dancing.

"Well, I'm actually planning on taking it easy," Kelly replied. "Just lounging around, reading books … staying off roofs, don't worry." The two Eppes men laughed, and she was glad they caught the humor in her voice. "Oh, where's Charlie?" Alan and Don stopped laughing, and their smiles faded as they glanced at each other; Kelly became a little concerned. "What's wrong?" Don glanced at Alan, and gave him a private look, signaling him to take the question.

"Kelly," Alan said gently, "Charlie's … still dealing with what happened."

"Well, it was pretty traumatic," Kelly replied. "I'm still having nightmares."

"Charlie has … coping issues," Don said. "Especially to traumatic events."

"Where is he?" Kelly asked.

"In the garage," Alan replied. He paused. "He's been there almost a week."

Kelly furrowed her eyebrows. "Is he okay?"

"Physically, yeah," Alan replied. "He takes naps, eats … he just hasn't stopped working on that dn equation."

"What equation?" Kelly asked.

"Charlie had difficulties dealing with his mother's death," Alan explained. "He, uh … he spent the last three months of her life in the garage working on this unsolvable math problem. He also did it after Donny was involved in a shooting earlier this year."

"So, he deals with stressful situations by using an avoidance coping mechanism," Kelly said. She stopped and shook her head. "Sorry, my inner psychologist jumped out for a moment."

"It's okay," Don said.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Kelly asked.

"It's like talking to a brick wall," Don answered. "He gets these blinders on and just tunes everything out … it's his way to avoid dealing with things."

"Maybe I can try talking to him," Kelly suggested. "I mean … I am the reason he's upset; maybe if I talk to him …."

"Look, no offense, Kelly," Don said, "but Charlie's … he's impossible to reach when he gets in that zone."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to try," Kelly said as she slowly got to her feet.

"Um, what about staying off your feet?" Paul asked.

"I'll be careful," Kelly said, limping toward the back door; she opened it and walked outside, closing the door behind her.

"What about her protection?" Alan asked.

"They're already posted around the property," Paul answered. "Both Kelly and the Vice-President hand-picked her new detail; one of the stipulations is that she gets a little more freedom around familiar areas, but don't worry, they're keeping an eye on everything." He leaned back in his chair.

- - - -

Kelly quietly opened the side entrance to the garage door and limped into the dim structure. She stopped just inside the door, taking in everything around her. All the furniture and junk had been pushed to one side of the garage; all the walls were covered with large chalkboards that had complex mathematical equations … there were even chalkboards hanging from the ceiling. Kelly furrowed her eyebrows, and she looked to her left, seeing Charlie – his back to her – standing at one of the boards, scribbling furiously on it with a piece of chalk. An old dented metal stool stood near the chalkboard – and Jeffery was propped on it, looking exactly as she remembered him; she allowed herself a brief smile before turning back to Charlie.

The mathematician wore a funky puce Abercrombie t-shirt that – to Kelly - looked like it should have been trashed when he bought it, faded slouchy acid washed dark blue jeans, and cross trainers probably held together by foot sweat. His clothes were rumpled, like they had been slept in, and his hair looked mussed.

"Charlie?" she asked softly. Charlie kept working, like he hadn't heard her over the chalk; Kelly raised her voice a bit louder. "Charlie." She saw him hesitate briefly before going back to his equation; Kelly knew she wouldn't have been surprised if he thought he was imagining her voice. She took a deep breath and slowly walked over, standing behind him and slightly to his right. She glanced at Jeffery and picked him up, checking him over; she smiled at Charlie. "Thank you for taking care of Jeffery for me."

Nothing.

Kelly sighed. As a psych graduate student, she knew she was going to have her work cut out for her. But she was nothing if not persistence, even though most people called it stubbornness.

"Charlie, about what happened when I got shot," she said slowly. "I know -"

"Look," Charlie said, frustrated, turning around to face her, "I am working on something really important here, and I'm about to have a major breakthrough, so I can't waste time talking about something that happened last week." He turned back and started scribbling again.

Kelly raised an eyebrow. If the situation hadn't been serious – she would have smacked him for talking to her like that; she wondered what Alan would do to him if he had heard that. She sighed and walked over to his side. "Look, Charlie, I know what happened last week was really scary," she said. "It was scary for me too." She gently placed one of her hands over his writing hand; Charlie stopped writing, but he stared straight ahead. "Your family is worried about you, Charlie … and I am too. You can't push this under the rug and expect things to be fine … that's not how the world works, believe me." She could see in his eyes that he was struggling, but then he yanked his hand out from under hers and went back to writing.

The young woman narrowed her eyebrows. She had been trying to go for a more soothing approach in dealing with Charlie, hoping that would help him open up to her, but it was clear that either he didn't want to – or couldn't – respond to that … which meant she was going to have to take a more drastic approach with Charlie. Kelly took a deep breath and grabbed the chalk from Charlie's hand.

"Hey!" Charlie shouted angrily as he turned to her. Suddenly, he found himself being lifted off the ground and put over Kelly's left shoulder. "Put me down!" Kelly didn't say anything as she strained to keep him on her shoulder, limping slowly out of the garage. She grunted as she crossed the backyard to the koi pond. "What the hl are you doing?" Kelly plopped Charlie down – right in the middle of the pond.

"It's called a wake up call," Kelly said, frowning. "Sit there and think about that awhile, okay? When you're ready to talk, then we'll talk."

Charlie sat in the pond, stunned speechless as she limped off back to the house. He tried to process everything that had just happened … and he couldn't do it. He could not figure out what had just happened. He just sat in the pond as the koi swam around him.

Kelly opened the back door and limped inside; she stopped when she saw Alan, Don, and Paul looking at her. "What?" she asked.

"What was that?" Don asked.

"Psychological counseling," Kelly replied. "Hazzard style." She saw their blank expressions, and she sighed. "Look, Charlie needed that."

"He needed to be thrown into the pond?" Don asked, feeling a little upset with what had happened.

"He needed a wake up call," Kelly replied. "He spent a week in that garage, and it was hurting him, even if you couldn't see it."

"Look, Kelly, I care about my brother," Don said, trying not to yell at the young woman, "and I know he's hurting; I can see that." He sighed, frustrated. "Don't you think it's killing me to see him like this and not be able to reach him? Don't you think I've tried, we've tried?"

"I'm not insinuating you're a bad brother, Don," Kelly said. She turned to Alan. "Or that you're being a bad father, Alan … it's just easier for an outside force to see something that family members can sometimes miss." Don snorted, and Kelly frowned. "What?"

"You are so intent on spouting off all this stuff you know," Don said, "that you're not listening to what we're telling you … and you're making assumptions without verifying the facts."

"Well, if I knew more of the facts, maybe I could verify them," Kelly retorted, frowning.

Alan held up his hands, slipping into referee mode. "Okay, you two," he said. He turned to Kelly. "Kelly, Don's right … you're not listening to what we're telling you about Charlie … and those aren't good skills for a psychologist."

"So, now you're saying I'm a bad psychologist?" Kelly asked.

"No," Alan said calmly. "You're a very bright young woman, and I know you're going to be a great psychologist … but you need to stop worrying so much about what you're going to say and focus more on listening."

"I just want to help," Kelly said, her voice losing some of its thunder.

"I know," Alan replied, walking over to her and putting an arm around her shoulder, "and we don't mind that. Just don't be so quick to assume things, okay?" Kelly nodded. "Now, about the pond thing … would you care to explain it to us?"

"Especially since you shouldn't have been carrying anything," Paul pointed out, "much less a person." He pointed to the couch, and Kelly nodded, turning and limping toward it, wincing. "Kelly, stop."

"What?" Kelly asked.

"Your leg is bleeding," Paul replied as he walked over to her, leaning over.

Kelly looked over her shoulder and saw the dark stain on the back of her jeans. "I thought I felt something a little sticky back there." She shrugged. "Oh, well." She started for the couch.

"Hold it!" Paul said loudly. Kelly froze. "Get yourself upstairs now."

"But I'm fine," Kelly said. She shifted her weight and hissed. "Ow."

"Oh, yeah, you're really fine," Paul said sarcastically. He marched over to Kelly and picked her up, putting her over his shoulder.

"Paul!" Kelly shouted.

"You be quiet," Paul said. "Or I'll call your father and let him know you were ignoring the doctor's orders and reopened your wound." Kelly shut up, and Paul smiled smugly as he carried her upstairs to her room, leaving Alan and Don downstairs.

Alan shook his head. "That girl," he said, smiling. He glanced at Don, who looked slightly upset. "Donny, you okay?"

"I'm a bad brother," Don said.

"No, you're not," Alan replied. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I'm the big brother," Don said. "I'm the protector … I'm supposed to be able to help my little brother – and I can't."

Alan sighed. "Donny, you're not a bad brother," he said, putting a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Then why couldn't I reach him?" Don asked. "Why could she reach him and I couldn't?"

"I don't know," Alan replied, "but I ask myself the same question." Don looked up at him. "I'm the father … and it kills me that I can't reach my son the way I want to … the way your mother could."

Don sighed. "I just feel like … like a failure because I can't reach my brother by talking to him, and she reached him by tossing him into the koi pond."

"Well, to be honest," Alan replied, "I think that would snap anyone out of their stupor." He tilted his head. "And something tells me she didn't learn that in Psychology 101." He was glad Don smiled a little.

"I guess it is kind of the equivalent of having cold water thrown in your face," Don said.

"Yeah, well, you know Charlie," Alan replied. "He always did respond better to the back end than the front." Don nodded in agreement. "Look, I know it's hard, because you want to be the one to bring him back … I do too, but maybe this time we need someone on the outside to help."

"But Kelly's not on the outside," Don said. "The reason Charlie's like this is because of her." He sighed. "I don't want you to think I hate her, but I just want to make sure she's not causing more damage."

"I think we should talk with her," Alan replied. "Find out more about her methods of madness." He put an arm around his son's shoulders, and they headed toward the stairs.

"What about Charlie?" Don asked.

Alan pursed his lips, then he tilted his head. "Well, he has two options," Alan said. "Either he'll go back into the garage … or he'll come inside. I have a feeling he'll come inside."

"What makes you think that?" Don asked.

"Charlie may be stubborn," Alan replied, "but even he has his limits on how many times he wants to be in the koi pond in the span of less than two weeks." Don tilted his head and nodded, and the two headed up the stairs and down the hall to Kelly's room; they saw her door was partially opened, and Alan knocked.

"Come in," Paul said.

Alan opened the door all the way, and the two saw Kelly laying on her bed, having changed out of her jeans into a pair of blue cotton shorts. Her leg was propped up on thick pillows and wrapped … and Kelly had her arms folded, a sour expression on her face. Paul sat beside her feet, keeping an eye on her.

"Everything okay in here?" Alan asked.

"He made me drop my pants," Kelly complained.

"You're the one who disobeyed the doctor's orders," Paul replied. "So, don't be getting an attitude." Kelly snorted. "I can call your father, and you can snort at him." He almost grinned as she leaned back onto her pillows.

"I think everything's fine," Don replied to his father.

"Are you mad at me?" Kelly asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

Alan knew what she was referring to; he sighed and walked over, sitting beside her. "Honey, we're not mad at you," he said. He turned to Don. "Are we?"

"No, we're not mad," Don said as he came over. He sighed. "If anything … we're frustrated."

"With me?" Kelly asked.

"With Charlie," Don reassured her. He paused. "Kelly, it's frustrating not being able to help Charlie … and then you come in here and toss him into the pond."

"I should have stayed out," Kelly said. "This is a family matter … I shouldn't have gotten involved."

"Kelly, no," Don said. "You're as much involved in this as we are. You're the whole reason he's regressed."

"Actually, it's avoidance," Kelly said reflexively. She winced. "Sorry." She sighed. "Has he come in yet?"

"No, he's still outside," Alan replied. "He can be quite stubborn."

"He wants to talk," Kelly said. "I could see it in his eyes … but he either can't … or won't …."

"Is that why you decided to throw him into the pond?" Don asked wryly.

"I threw him in there to get his attention," Kelly said. "Nothing more … and I don't think it's the last time that anyone will have to get physical with him." She wanted to say more, but she hesitated.

"What are you talking about?" Don asked, noticing her hesitation.

"During my graduate studies," Kelly said slowly, "I dealt with a few people who had similar coping problems. And the only way to reach them was by getting physical with them … numerous times."

"You're saying we need to throw Charlie into the pond many times?" Don asked.

"I'm hoping it doesn't have to come to that," Kelly answered, "but it should be an option." She sighed. "Look, I don't know what went on while I was gone, but I've seen how hard it can be for a family to get forceful with a family member, because they're scared of either doing something wrong … or losing the love of that family member."

"Well, we did try getting his attention," Alan said. "You know, before."

"What did you do?" Kelly asked.

"Erased his boards," Don replied. "Stole his chalk …."

"Locked him out of the garage," Alan added.

"Anything else?" Kelly asked.

"No, that's … that's about it," Alan replied. He could almost see the gears whirling in Kelly's head. "What?"

"Those are good ideas," Kelly said. "You should try that again … but just kinda spice it up a bit."

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Don replied. "What do you have in mind, Kelly?"

"You'll need to further limit his resources," Kelly replied. "Take away everything that he could use as a way to avoid dealing with this: boards, chalk, paper, pens … everything." She turned to Don. "And no FBI cases … no consulting, nothing …."

"Don't you think that's a bit drastic?" Don asked. "What if I really need him?"

"Don, he's mentally unbalanced right now," Kelly said. "Even if a case really needed his expertise … he's not capable at the moment to handle it." She took a deep breath to keep herself reined in. "Um … is he flighty?"

Alan cocked his head. "Well, there was this one time with this one odd little girl he met in DC..." He winked at her before dropping his humor. "But no, usually he's pretty good at staying put." Don snorted, and both Alan and Kelly gave him curious looks as he muttered incoherently. "Something you want to add, Donny?"

"Nah, nothing relevant to now," Don said. "Just memories ... tiny water-colored memories ... of the pain he was ..."

Paul had been watching the whole scenario, just listening to the trio talk. Suddenly, he heard a voice in his earpiece; he put a couple of fingers near his ear, furrowing his eyebrows. After a few seconds he glanced at Alan. "One of my agents just told me Charlie was seen heading south on his bike."

Kelly sighed. "Well, there goes that theory," she said wryly. Alan raised an eyebrow, staring at her. "Sorry." She turned to Paul. "Is there any way you can get them to bring Charlie back?" She looked back at Alan and Don. "If that's okay with you." Alan glanced at Don, who shrugged. Alan sighed and nodded.

"Get him back here," Alan said to Paul. "But don't hurt him, please."

Paul nodded. "Of course not," he said. He brought his wrist up to his mouth. "Detain Logorithm and bring him back to Alpha One. Be firm, but do not hurt him." He lowered his wrist.

"I'll go downstairs and wait for him," Don said. He looked at Alan. "We may have to keep him confined to the house."

"I'll say," Alan replied as he got to his feet and followed his son out of the room. Kelly felt a little left out as she leaned back on her pillows. A few seconds passed before Alan and Don came back into the room; they walked over to the bed, and Alan sat down beside the young woman. "Sorry, honey."

"No, it's okay," Kelly said, trying to appear more cheerful than she really was. "Charlie is part of your family; this is something that you two have to deal with."

"You think you're going to get off that easily?" Don asked. "Kelly, you're part of this too."

"Yeah, we can't do this on our own," Alan said.

Kelly looked up, surprised. "You want me to help?" she asked.

"Well, he's a flight risk now," Alan answered. "What do you usually for that?"

Kelly glanced at Don, trying to gauge his opinion on the whole matter. He smiled reassuringly, and his eyes twinkled, but Kelly could see a slight sadness there as well, and the young woman knew that - no matter what – Don would never fully be okay with him not being able to help Charlie. She knew it was nothing personal, that it was strictly a sibling thing, but it didn't make it hurt any less ... even though she knew she had no reason to be hurt; yeah, she cared about Charlie, but it wasn't like her feelings were more important than Charlie's well-being. She took a deep breath and pushed her personal feelings aside.

"Well," she said slowly, "keeping him confined to one area will be necessary. That means, in this case, making sure he doesn't leave the house … cancel his meetings, whatever; give him no excuse to leave in the first place."

"He's not going to like that," Don replied.

"He will resist," Kelly agreed, nodding. "Persistence is going to be the key."

"What if he tries to leave again?" Alan asked.

Kelly glanced at Paul and smiled. "Paul, you think the guys might be willing to help out if Charlie decides to make a break for it again?"

Paul saw that it was important to Kelly that he agree to this, and he smiled and nodded. "Sure," he replied. "That won't be a problem." He put a finger to his ear, listening; he looked at Don and Alan. "They have him, and they're bringing him inside."

"Let's go see our little Houdini," Alan said. He got to his feet as Don headed for the door, but Alan didn't follow right away. Before Kelly could react, Alan gently picked her up and held her close as he carried her out of the room and down the stairs with Paul close behind. They walked into the living room, where Charlie stood, dripping wet, arms folded, looking extremely p----d off as two agents flanked his sides.

"Hey, Charlie," Don said.

"Don't 'hey, Charlie' me," Charlie said angrily. He glared at Kelly. "This was your idea, wasn't it?"

"Charlie, you can be in a bad mood all you want," Alan said sternly, "but do not talk to anyone like that, especially your brother and your houseguest."

"Well, this is my house," Charlie retorted, "and they can both leave any time."

Alan gently put Kelly down in one of the upholstered chairs, and then he marched over to his son, getting in his face. "Charles Edward Eppes, I know you don't really mean that, so I'm going to overlook that – for now – but let me give you some advice; if you speak in that tone of voice to me ever again … I will take you over my knee and give you what's what."

Kelly found herself pleasantly surprised seeing Alan get all 'fatherly' with Charlie; it reminded her so much of her own father. She beckoned Don over with her finger, and the agent leaned over. "So, this is what it looks like from this angle, huh?" she whispered. She saw Don's blank expression. "Oh, Daddy and I used to get this way with each other." She shrugged and turned to Alan and Charlie. "Hey, Charlie, if your father's like mine … I wouldn't push him."

"And why not?" Charlie asked, glaring at her.

"Well, because the last time I really pushed my father," Kelly said calmly, "he popped me twenty times – and that was a few weeks ago."

"You're lying," Charlie replied.

"No, she's not," Paul said. "Believe me, he did it – and I heard it all."

Charlie glanced at Kelly, and he could see she looked embarrassed by recalling that event in her life, but he knew she – and Paul – was serious. He glanced at his father and saw that look in his eyes … a look that Charlie had seen before – right before Alan would take him over his knees and pop him. A lot of his initial anger subsided, but he still did not want to be around any of them.

"Fine," Charlie replied coolly. "You can all stay here, and I'll just go to CalSci."

"Actually, that won't be possible, bro," Don said.

"What?" Charlie asked.

"Until further notice," Alan answered, "you are staying put." He indicated the Secret Service agents in the room. "And they will make sure that happens."

"But I've got plans," Charlie protested. "Meetings … cases … research!"

"And they will be cancelled," Don replied. "For the time being."

"What?" Charlie shouted. "You're canceling my stuff?"

"You're in no shape to be dealing with everything until you've dealt with the shooting," Don said. He sighed. "Come on, Charlie, you need to talk about this."

"I've dealt with it already," Charlie said. "I've dealt with it."

"And that's why you spent a week in the garage working on that math equation, huh?" Kelly asked wryly, folding her arms.

"That's how I dealt with it," Charlie said, glaring at her.

"So, your idea of dealing with something is to immerse yourself into something completely different and totally avoid the situation that needs to be dealt with, huh?" Kelly asked calmly, her eyes hard and focused.

Charlie's eyes were daggers as he marched over to her, looking down at her. As he opened his mouth she carefully got to her feet, balancing her weight on her left leg and looking him straight in the eyes. Charlie was taken aback … and even a little frightened by the look in her eyes, like she was daring him to say something to her. After a few seconds, he slowly narrowed his eyes at her, before brushing past her and storming up the stairs; a few moments later they heard his door slam.

Kelly sighed and looked over at Don and Alan. "This is going to be a long ride," she said.

**Balladeer: No kiddin', darlin'.**

(End of Chapter 16)


	17. Chapter 17

- - - - 

**Balladeer: And so began one of the hardest things the Eppes had ever faced in their lives. Kelly, for the most part, stayed out of the way, lettin' Don and Alan deal with Charlie while she merely offered guidance and suggestions. It was tough on everyone, and Charlie tested them whenever he could. That included tryin' to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night on the first night, but he was caught and returned to his room (with him makin' a fuss that nearly woke the entire neighborhood.) He stayed put, but he made sure that he took control of anythin' he could: he came out of his room when he wanted, ate when and what he wanted, refused to talk to anyone, even Larry and Amita, who stopped by to try and help (but Charlie blew them off quicker than a hot knife through fresh goat butter) … in short, he was actin' like a little kid. And it was hard on all three of them, but ya could see it was hardest on Alan and Don – and with good reason; it was killin' them to see Charlie like that, knowin' he was shuttin' them out. It was also startin' to wear thin on their patience, and after two days – and nowhere near any kind of breakthrough – Don and Alan headed out for a long walk to clear their heads, while Kelly stayed behind to keep an eye on Charlie.**

Kelly's leg was nearly healed completely as she sat cross-legged on her bed, reading The Sign of Four, one of her favorite Sherlock Holmes books. Paul was keeping a vigil downstairs in the living room – and Charlie was down there, pacing between the parlor and the living room, complaining loudly about anything. Kelly shook her head, smiling a little, even though she knew the situation was serious. Charlie was being very childish, and Kelly wondered if she had ever been that difficult; she made a mental note to ask her father about that later. She sighed as she turned the page, reading, when she heard someone stomping up the stairs; she knew it was Charlie, and she paid no attention to him as he walked down the corridor. He glanced at her briefly before reaching for his bedroom doorknob, and then he turned away, but then he stopped and turned around. He stormed into her room and over to her bed, looking down at her; she knew he was there, but she didn't look up.

"May I help you?" she asked calmly.

"Call them off," Charlie demanded.

"Call who off?" Kelly asked.

"Those d--m agents!" Charlie shouted.

"Not gonna happen," Kelly replied.

"Why the h--l not!" Charlie shouted. "This is my house! You have no right to be doing this to me!"

"Well, if you had dealt with this properly," Kelly said, "then there wouldn't be a need for this."

"I have dealt with this!" Charlie shouted.

Kelly looked up at him, sadness in her eyes. "No you haven't, Charlie. You have not dealt with this."

"And you think you can help me?" Charlie asked angrily. "Just because you're studying psychology you think you can get inside my head and understand what happened? Well, you can't, okay! You can't possibly understand what happened that night; no one can!" He turned and stormed out of her room, heading across the hall to his room.

Kelly's eyes narrowed as she put her book aside and got to her feet, following Charlie; she caught up with him as he tried to slam his bedroom door in her face, but she caught it; she marched into his room as sat down on the edge of his bed and started untying his shoes. "Ya know," she said, slipping into a southern accent, "I've excused most of what's come out of yer blowhole these past two days, but I ain't gonna let ya say that to my face!"

"Why not?" Charlie asked.

"Because you weren't the only one who was affected by what happened that night!" Kelly shouted.

"I know that!" Charlie shouted.

"Do you?" Kelly asked, slipping into a southern accent. "Because the way I see it, ya don't think anyone was affected by what happened except you! Well, wake up, Charlie! Paul and yer brother had to kill someone! How do ya think that affected them, huh? Or what about yer father? Yer father was the only one around who could save my life when I was bleedin' to death; how do ya think he must have felt? And what about Larry? He was there too, so unless he's made out of cardboard, then he was affected by what happened!" She could see the pain in his eyes, and she wanted to comfort him, but she wasn't done just yet. "Oh, and one more thing, Charlie, in case you've forgotten this: I was the one who got shot! I was the one who nearly died! I was the one who flatlined on the operatin' table three times!" By this time she had tears streaming down her face; she took a shaky breath, dropping her voice to a more normal level.

"Look, Charlie," she continued, "I know how scary it must have been for ya; I saw it in yer eyes, but ya can't let that fear control yer life. Look at what happened when Daddy and me allowed fear to control our lives – we lost almost four years that we can never get back. I don't want that to happen to you and yer family, okay? Ya can't go on thinkin' that what happened that night only affected ya, because it didn't, and ya can't let that fear control yer life, because it will destroy ya." She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't know what else to say that will get ya to understand what yer doin' to yourself, Charlie … I don't." She turned to leave, putting her hand on the doorknob.

"Please don't go."

Kelly paused when she heard the small whisper. She turned around and saw Charlie, his head hanging, but she could still see the tears fall down his cheeks. He slowly looked up, and Kelly saw the pain – and fear - radiating from his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't say anything; he just silently pleaded for her to stay.

Kelly's anger subsided, then she crossed over to the bed and sat down beside Charlie. He refused to look at her as he hung his head, but Kelly gently used her hand to lift and tilt his face up, but he still kept his eyes averted. "Charlie, please look at me," she said softly. Charlie hesitated, but he slowly looked over, his eyes meeting hers; to Kelly, he looked like a lost little boy … and in a way he was. It was all she could do not to break down as she cupped his face in her hands. "Just talk to me – please."

"Do you know what the odds are of surviving what you went through?" Charlie whispered.

"Not that good?" Kelly asked.

Charlie shook his head slightly. "Statistically … you're supposed to be dead," he replied.

"But I'm not," Kelly said. "I'm right here … and I'm okay."

"But it shouldn't have happened," Charlie said, his voice shaking, tilting his head down.

"No, it shouldn't have," Kelly agreed. She leaned in close to him, resting her forehead against his. "But it did … and it's okay to be scared … we just can't let it control our lives."

"How did you deal with this?" Charlie asked.

"Charlie, I'm still dealing with this," Kelly answered. "It's going to take time to get over this … but we will get over it."

"Promise?" Charlie asked, putting his hands over hers.

Kelly slightly nodded. "Promise," she whispered.

Charlie took a shaky breath and let it out, then the reserve he had been keeping up finally broke – and he started crying. Kelly felt her heart breaking as tears welled up in her eyes, and she moved her hands from his face and wrapped them around his neck, hugging him gently. Charlie buried his face in her shoulder as he hugged her tightly around her waist, as if his life depended on it.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed.

Kelly had to fight back her own tears, knowing she had to be strong for Charlie, but it was hard. She closed her eyes briefly, squeezing the tears back, then she suddenly felt a new presence. She opened her eyes and glanced over at the door; she softly sucked in her breath when she saw Alan and Don standing just inside the room. She could see they looked disturbed and a little alarmed that Charlie was crying – and Kelly knew they were probably mad at her: she had probably caused a lot more damage to their family. She turned her head away from them, resting her head against Charlie's, not wanting to let go.

Don and Alan hesitated at the door, then they separated as they walked over to the two. Don touched Kelly's left shoulder and beckoned her to come with him; she didn't have time to protest before he gave her a reassuring look and nodded for her to turn and see Alan on the other side. The young woman took one more look at Charlie, then she let Don help her stand up.

Charlie didn't have time to get upset when he felt Kelly go, because Alan took her place almost fluidly, and Charlie recognized the aftershave and the hands. He settled in, burying his head into his father's chest, mumbling broken apologies into Alan's shirt. Alan murmured back to him, holding his younger son close, rubbing Charlie's back, whispering softly that everything was going to be okay.

Don gently guided Kelly out of the room and across the hall; he led her over to the bed, and the two sat down on the edge. The agent just sat beside her, seeing her stare at a spot on the floor as she fought to keep the tears in her eyes from spilling down her cheeks. He knew she was willing herself not to cry, silently telling herself that she had to be strong, but it didn't last long. Her reserve broke, and she started crying softly as tears spilled from her eyes. Don felt horrible, and he put a hand on her shoulder. The young woman, flinched, startled, and she looked over, seeing his somber expression.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?" Don asked.

"This is the first intervention that I've ever done by myself," Kelly said quietly. "I messed up, huh?"

Don took in a deep breath and pulled Kelly closer, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "You did just fine, honey," he whispered.

"I was yellin' at him," Kelly sobbed as she buried her face in his chest. "I knew I was yellin' at him … and I couldn't stop."

"Kelly, he needed that," Don quietly said, trying to get the lump in his throat to disappear. "You got through to him … probably more than anyone else could – and he needed someone to get through to him … he needed to break like that so we can help him. You said that yourself, remember?"

Kelly nodded slightly, and Don rubbed her back and let her cry her tears out. It seemed like an eternity before her sobs died down, and Don glanced down to see that Kelly had drifted to sleep against him, emotionally exhausted. The agent knew enough about the young woman to know she had a lot of trust in him to be that vulnerable, and he was extremely touched. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead before gently shifting her and helping her lay on her back, her head resting against the pillows. He took Jeffery from his place on the bed and gently tucked him under Kelly's arm, and he smiled a little when she snuggled close with the orange giraffe. He sighed as he carefully got to her feet, wishing he had something to cover her with, then he remembered his father would keep a few spare blankets in the closet; he crossed the room and retrieved a thick gray one, and delicately covered the young woman. He turned to leave and saw Paul standing just inside the door.

"How is she?" Paul asked softly.

"Dealing," Don answered honestly.

"Well, she's been through a lot," Paul said.

"Yeah, she has," Don replied, "but this is different - this has to do with Charlie …."

Paul nodded, understanding. He noticed Don looked weary and concerned. "I'll stay with her," he said.

Don nodded gratefully, and he quietly brushed past Paul and left the room. Paul stared at Kelly for a few seconds before he crossed the room to the desk and sat in the chair, keeping a vigil over his young friend.

- - - -

Don stood in the solarium, watching the sun set; his hands were in his jean pockets, and he was exhausted. It had been hours since he left Kelly's bedroom. Before heading downstairs to make dinner Alan had come in to tell Don that Charlie had calmed down and was resting in his room. Don sighed and just leaned against the window, bracing his arm above his head. He saw movement in the reflection of the window, and he glanced up, seeing his brother standing just inside the doorway. The agent saw how tired and bedraggled his baby brother looked, slightly slouched with his hands in the pockets of his pants.

"You know," he said softly, not turning around, "I don't say this much, but I was frustrated and scared, Charlie." He normally wouldn't be that honest, but he decided to take a cue from Kelly and let the truth out.

"I know," Charlie said in that 'I know, I'm sorry, I'm not assuming everything's all about me anymore' voice. "For her, right?"

Don turned around, looking just as tired and haggard as his baby brother. "No ... for you."

Charlie looked surprised. "Why me?" he asked.

Don sighed. "Charlie, you're my brother ... I worry about you." He paused, trying to choose his words. "It was like ... you were hurting yourself ... and you couldn't even see that … and you couldn't see what you were doing to us." He took a deep breath. "Charlie, did you know that it was killing Dad to see you like that - and he couldn't reach you … and I know I don't matter as much ... but it was killing me too."

Charlie look devastated. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I know you are," Don said softly, "and I know it's not your fault; it's human to get that way ... everyone does it, especially when bad things happen. Trust me, it's easier to get in your own bubble than to deal with reality, but it's not healthy to stay there. I've seen too many people get like that on the job ... and it destroys them. I don't want to see you go through the same thing."

"But it was my fault," Charlie said.

"No, Charlie, it wasn't," Don replied. "You were never allowed to deal with reality the same way everyone else did. You were expected to act, think, and behave like an adult ... and you weren't ready for that."

Charlie looked down. "So, she was right, then huh?" he asked quietly.

Don sighed. "Charlie, it's not about being right - it's about the truth: the truth is ... you grew up faster than you should have. I'm not saying you shouldn't have been encouraged to use your gifts ... but it was how it was done. It wasn't anyone's fault ... it just happened. The thing is ... you have to fix it now."

Charlie looked lost, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could get words out. "I don't know how," he whispered.

Don sighed. "To be honest ... I don't either ... but I'll be here to help, bro. And so will Dad ... that's what families do." Charlie looked like he was about to cry again, and Don walked over and hugged him tightly. Charlie clung to his older brother, burying his head in his shoulder. The two stayed like that for several minutes, not moving, not saying anything, then Alan quietly ventured in. He stopped short for a few seconds, seeing his sons like that, then he walked up behind Charlie and sandwiched him by wrapping his arms around him and Don.

The trio stood there in silence until the sun had set before they pulled apart. Don and Alan looked down at Charlie; the mathematician still looked haggard and lost, but at the same time he looked a little relieved.

"I'm sorry," Charlie whispered.

"Charlie, it's okay," Don said. "I'm kinda used to dealing with you when you get like this … but Kelly isn't." Charlie looked up. "Why don't you go talk to her?"

"Yeah," Charlie snorted. "Like she's going to want to talk to me now."

Don sighed. "Charlie …."

"She must hate me," Charlie said.

"She doesn't hate you," Don replied.

"I would hate me after what I said to her," Charlie said.

Don smiled a little. "Well, just goes to show you can't be right about everything," he replied. He turned to Alan. "Dad, make a memo--today the great Charlieissimo was found to be imperfect after all." He glanced at Charlie and was relieved to see a spark of humor in his eyes. Don put an arm around his shoulders, his expression serious again. "Charlie, she's leaving day after tomorrow ... do you really want to leave things like this between you two?"

"Yeah, especially with how you feel about her," Alan added. Charlie gave his father a tired look, and Alan held his hands up. "Okay, you don't like her ..." He turned to leave. "That's right … there's no note on the fridge." Don grinned, getting the joke. Alan stopped just outside the door and turned around to face Charlie. "She's out at the koi pond, by the way. I'm going to go make dinner." He left, heading down the stairs.

Charlie's eyebrows shot up. "Out ... by ... the ... nuh unh, no way ...," he said, shaking his head.

Don crossed the solarium and looked out the window; he saw Kelly sitting next to the pond, her back to the house, her knees pulled close to her. "Yep," he said slowly, "she's there."

Charlie tentatively walked over and looked out the window. "Think she's waiting to toss me in again?"

Don put an hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Charlie," he said gently, "I don't think she has the strength ..."

Charlie glanced up at his brother. "Is she okay?"

"Well, you were her first solo intervention," Don said. "She's scared she pushed you away." He paused. "And … she's still dealing, Charlie ... she went through a lot - and I don't think it's going to be easy to get over something like that. She's just a little ... out of sorts right now. I think knowing that you're going to be okay will help; the only person she's been worried about is ... well, you." He patted Charlie's shoulder. "Go ease her mind, bro. She needs to start healing too."

Charlie looked reluctant, but he slowly nodded. Don kept his arm around Charlie's shoulders, and the two headed out of the solarium and down the stairs. They headed into the living room and stopped. Don took his arm off Charlie, and nudged him a little toward the back door. Charlie looked hesitant, but he swallowed and slowly walked over as Don headed into the kitchen. The mathematician carefully opened the door and headed into the backyard. He stopped short when he saw Paul standing on the porch, inside the shadows; Charlie knew Paul was staying as invisible as possible to give Kelly privacy while still keeping watch over her. The agent looked over at him, and Paul simply nodded before turning back to watching his charge. Charlie glanced back at Kelly, took a deep breath, and slowly walked over to her.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," Kelly whispered, her voice laced with a southern accent as she stared at the pond.

"Can I sit down?" Charlie asked.

"Sure," Kelly answered.

Charlie sat down beside the young woman, and he glanced unsurely at her. He could see the streaks on her cheeks; he almost panicked, but he quickly got his emotions under control and took a deep breath.

"I'll be fine," Kelly said. "Don't worry about me."

"It's a little late for that," Charlie said quietly. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Kelly. I acted like a jerk."

Kelly sighed. "Ya acted the way ya felt the most comfortable. It's okay."

Charlie shook his head. "No, it's not … you're not used to that. It was wrong to do that to Don and my father – and they are used to that … and I had no right to tell you that you had no way of understanding what happened that night."

"I shouldn't have yelled at ya," Kelly said. "That's the one thing they told us never to do."

"Well, they were wrong," Charlie replied, "because I needed to be yelled at." He shrugged. "And I guess I needed to be thrown into the pond." He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Please don't be this way because of me."

Kelly looked over. "I won't … I'm just doing a lot of soul searchin' right now, I guess," she replied.

"You gonna go back to D.C.?" Charlie asked.

Kelly nodded. "Yeah, until I find an internship," she replied. "After that …." She shrugged.

"Why don't you just stay here?" Charlie asked suddenly.

Kelly slowly looked over at him. "What?"

"Stay here," Charlie replied. "It's not D.C., but it's still pretty cool."

"I'd have to find a place to live," Kelly said. "Get an internship …."

"Well, there are a bunch of crazies around here," Charlie replied. "I'm sure finding an internship won't be too hard. As for the place … why don't you just stay here?"

Kelly raised her eyebrows. "As in 'here?'" she asked. Charlie nodded. "Charlie, I …."

"I want you to stay," Charlie said. He paused and took a deep breath. "I'm asking you to stay, Kelly."

"But … but why?" Kelly asked. "I haven't been the ideal guest."

Charlie smiled a little. "You've made it more interesting," he said. Kelly snorted. "In a good way. I mean, you saved Dad three hundred dollars in car repairs …."

"And that went back into the solarium window when I crashed into it," Kelly replied wryly.

Charlie sighed and scooted closer to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Kelly, regardless of the damage to … whatever, we all had a good time. Yeah, it was a little crazy at times, but I know we all enjoyed having you here … and we'd miss you if you left."

Kelly wondered if he could read her mind, because she was feeling the exact same way about leaving them. _Freaky_, she thought. She took in a shaky breath and tried not to cry. "Telling Daddy's not gonna to be easy," she said.

"Probably not," Charlie replied, smiling, trying not to grin too much, "but you said he's going to start treating you like an adult now … even if it means you'll be living on the other side of the country."

Kelly nodded. "I'll call him tomorrow," she said softly.

"Okay," Charlie replied quietly.

"Can I ask ya somethin'?" Kelly asked after a few moments.

"Sure," Charlie replied.

"Why in the world did ya call me Bubbles?" Kelly asked.

Charlie chuckled. "Remember our first night together in D.C.?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kelly replied.

"Well, that was the first time I ever had bubble tea," Charlie replied. "So, I thought Bubbles was a cute nickname. I even had it engraved on those chopsticks in your gift basket." He looked embarrassed. "It's a stupid name, isn't it?"

"No, it's sweet," Kelly replied, smiling, glad to know what those symbols meant. She felt extremely touched as she leaned over and put her head on Charlie's shoulder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Charlie said softly, leaning his head against hers as they just sat there, watching the fish swim as the moon shone down on them

- - - -

The next afternoon Cooter sat in his office, gritting his teeth as he did massive amounts of paperwork; dealing with the problems of the country – especially picking up from where the last Vice-President left off – was not easy. His phone rang, and Cooter sighed with relief as he picked it up, glad for even a little distraction. "Hello?" he asked.

"Hi, Daddy."

Cooter suddenly smiled. "Hey, pumpkin," he said.

"Is this a bad time?" Kelly asked.

Cooter dropped his pen, swiveling his chair around and leaning back. "For you, honey, never. How are things in yer neck of the woods?" Kelly paused, and Cooter sighed, knowing that pause meant something was up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kelly said. "I just … I really need to talk to ya, Daddy."

"Well, shoot, sweetie," Cooter replied. "What's on yer mind?"

Kelly sighed. "Daddy, I've been doing some thinking," she said. "Remember how we talked about me livin' my life the way I wanted to?"

"Yeah," Cooter replied slowly.

"I think I've figured out what I want to do," Kelly said. "I wanna stay in Los Angeles."

Cooter closed his eyes. He wasn't mad or hurt; he had been expecting to have this conversation with her even since their time at Camp David … but he still found himself slipping into Protective Father Mode. He sighed. "Kelly, are you sure that's what you want to do?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kelly replied. She sighed. "Daddy, I really like it out here …."

"I know, sweetie," Cooter said.

"There's more," Kelly said. "Charlie invited me to stay with him and his father … and I said yes."

Cooter raised an eyebrow. "Do you think that's a good idea?" he asked.

"Daddy …."

"Honey, I'm serious," Cooter replied. "I know how Charlie feels about you … and how you feel about him."

"Daddy," Kelly said, trying not to get frustrated, "Charlie and I are just friends … and there's more to why I want to stay here than him; it's all of them: Charlie, Don, Alan … Larry." She sighed. "Daddy, they care so much about me … and they want me to stay … and I really want to stay too."

"What about your internship?" Cooter asked.

"It's L.A., Daddy," Kelly replied. "I know I can find somethin' here."

Cooter stayed quiet for a few seconds as he rubbed his forehead. "Are you sure this is what ya really want, honey?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kelly replied, her voice dropping a little bit. "This is what I want."

Cooter took in a deep breath, and he let it out slowly. "Okay," he said softly.

"What?" Kelly asked.

"Okay," Cooter repeated, his voice a little louder.

"Yer okay with this?" Kelly asked.

Cooter smiled, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "Yeah," he said. "I'm okay with this." Nothing. "Kelly?"

"Thank you, Daddy," Kelly said softly, and Cooter could hear her voice wavering slightly.

"What do ya need me to do here?" Cooter asked.

"Oh, uh," Kelly said slowly, "I'll, uh … I'll come back tomorrow … and I can start packin'. And I wanna get some of my stuff from Hazzard too."

"Okay," Cooter replied. "But yer not takin' the Angel."

"Aww, why not?" Kelly asked.

"You are not gonna to be drivin' that car in L.A.," Cooter replied. "Ya can take yer other car."

"It's a borin' regular car," Kelly said.

"Well, last time I checked," Cooter replied, smiling, "there ain't any back roads in downtown L.A."

Kelly chuckled. "Okay, okay," she said. "I'll leave the Angel in Hazzard."

"Thank you," Cooter replied. He glanced the papers on his desk. "Well, I need to go; the country is beckonin' me, but when ya get here – you'll have my undivided attention."

"Thanks, Daddy," Kelly said. She paused. "I love you."

Cooter took a deep breath as tears welled up in his eyes. "I love you too, Kelly." He slowly hung up the phone and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. He glanced down at the framed photos on his desk, and his eyes fell on one showing Kelly when she was seven. Her brown hair was in pigtails, and she gave a toothy grin to the camera, her green eyes shining. Cooter reached down and picked up the frame, staring at the photo, part of him wondering where the years had gone, but he slowly smiled as he returned the frame to its place and got back to his work; he wanted to finish before his daughter came back to him.

(End of Chapter 17)


	18. Chapter 18

- - - - 

_One Week Later …_

The doorbell chimed inside the Eppes house as the trio sat in the living room, doing what they always did on Saturday afternoons when they weren't busy: Don and Charlie were watching a baseball game on television while their father worked on a crossword puzzle. Don and Charlie were in the middle of complaining about the umpire's call when the doorbell rang. Charlie jumped up, smiling, and headed for the door. He opened it and saw Kelly standing on the porch. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans, old sneakers, and an oversized blue t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a French braid, and she grinned, arms folded.

"You know," she said, "you're going to have to seriously consider giving me a key soon."

"Hey!" Charlie exclaimed as he grinned; the two hugged each other tightly. He glanced up and saw Cooter, Enos, and two other men (one blond and one dark-haired) – along with some Secret Service agents, including Paul – watching him like hawks as they stood near a limo, a moving van, an old Escort, and a late model, dark red Ford Mustang. The mathematician's grin faded as he quickly pulled away. He looked nervous, but he smiled at Kelly. "What are you doing here? You're early."

"Wanted to avoid the press," Kelly replied, still smiling. She turned and nodded at her men. "And they all wanted to come and help."

Charlie felt like he was being put under a microscope, but he was starting to accept being watched around Kelly - and he seemed to notice it less and less the more time he spent with the young woman. It was a really weird feeling.

Kelly leaned past Charlie and grinned at Alan and Don. "Hey, you two," she said, waving.

"Hey, you!" Don replied as he turned off the television with the remote and got up with his father. They walked over and each hugged the young woman. "You're early."

"I can leave," Kelly replied, smiling.

"Nah," Alan said, his eyes twinkling. "Might as well stay." He noticed the group of men watching them. "Looks like you brought everyone with you."

"I needed a few extra hands moving in," Kelly replied. "Come on." She grabbed Charlie's hand and all but pulled him down the porch, with Don and Alan following; they approached the group. "Now, guys, you know most everyone here, but these two," she nodded at the blond and dark-haired strangers, "are my surrogate uncles, Bo and Luke Duke. Uncle Bo, Uncle Luke, I'd like to introduce you to Charlie, Don, and Alan Eppes."

"So, yer the one who snuck off with our Kelly, huh?" Bo asked sternly, eyeing Charlie with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Now, Bo, be nice to him," Luke replied. "We can't do nuthin' here anyway … left our tar and feathers back in Hazzard, remember?"

"Ignore them," Kelly replied, grinning at Charlie's 'deer-in-the-headlights' expression. "That's their way of saying 'hi.'"

"Uh … hi?" Charlie asked.

"Nice to see you again, Dr. Eppes," Cooter spoke up, smiling warmly. It was nice to see Charlie in a much better mood than the last time he'd see him … and Cooter knew from Paul that his daughter had been responsible for that. "How are you doing?"

"Good, sir," Charlie replied.

"That's good to hear," Cooter said. He turned to Alan and held out his hand. "Mr. Eppes."

"Mr. Vice-President," Alan replied, shaking the man's hand.

Cooter smiled and shook Don's hand. "Agent Eppes."

"Sir," Don replied. He nodded to Enos. "Sheriff Strait."

"Okay," Kelly spoke up. "Enough of the formalities - I have all these things to move from here," points to the moving van, "to there." She pointed to the house. "So, come on, everybody." She clapped her hands a couple of times. "Chop, chop."

"Since when did you become so bossy?" Luke asked, folding his arms and smiling.

"Since this is my stuff, and I want it in the house before any reporters show up and figured out we shucked and jived 'em," Kelly replied, brushing past her men and opening the driver's side door of the Mustang, reaching in for a large moving box.

"So, is this the infamous Mustang you were talking about earlier?" Don asked as she pulled out a box labeled 'Books' scribbled in big black letters.

"Nope, this is Jeannette," Kelly replied. "The Angel is back in Hazzard."

"You named your car Jeannette?" Don asked.

"Yep," Kelly replied. "Named her after Jeannette Pickering Rankin." She was met by three pairs of blank stares. "She was from Georgia, and the first woman to be elected to the U.S. Congress."

"She was also described as an active, vigorous child, fearless, competent, and very self-confident,'" Cooter added, smiling.

"That's our Kelly in a nutshell," Luke replied, grinning proudly.

"So, why couldn't you bring out the Angel?" Charlie asked.

"Because Daddy made it abundantly clear that it would be in my best interest to leave her in Hazzard," Kelly replied, smiling.

"All I said was that there are no backroads in L.A.," Cooter replied.

"That don't mean it'd stop Kelly," Bo said, grinning at Luke. Cooter, Enos, and Luke folded their arms and looked at Bo, and his smile slowly faded. He cleared his throat and hurried over, taking the box from Kelly. "So, where're these boxes gonna go?"

Kelly grinned and pulled another box out of her car. "Follow me, Uncle Bo," she said. She turned to the others. "I trust you guys will be careful with my stuff when you unload the van." She headed up the walk, and Bo looked a little off-kilter as he watched her for a moment before following her. The rest of the men watched the young woman with raised eyebrows, then the Eppes looked back at the Hazzard men.

"Where did that come from?" Don asked.

"Oh, she's always been like that," Luke replied. "Whenever she moves into some place, she wants to be in charge of the movin'."

"Actually, if I'm remeberin' correctly," Enos said, "that girl likes to be in charge of everythin'."

"You shoulda seen her when we moved into Naval One," Cooter replied. "That girl was barkin' orders left and right, makin' sure the Secret Service didn't drop any of her things." He headed for the van and opened the door as the others joined him, and the six men began carrying boxes into the house. The Hazzard men followed the Eppes up the stairs to Kelly's room, where Kelly and Bo had put their boxes down on the floor.

"Where do you want these, pumpkin?" Cooter asked.

**Balladeer: Now, Cooter wouldn't normally let his daughter bark orders at him, but it was Kelly's move, so he was gonna let her take command … as long as she didn't get out of line.**

"Just put 'em anywhere," Kelly said.

"Nice room," Luke replied, looking around as they set the boxes down.

"I like it," Kelly said. "Not too big, not too small … okay, enough chattering, let's get more boxes." She brushed past the men, leaving them in her dust.

"You know," Luke replied, as they followed Kelly, "if I didn't know her any better, I'd say she's more eager about movin' in here than a fox is standin' outside a full chicken coop."

"Gee, I wonder why," Bo muttered so low that only Cooter, Enos, and Luke heard him. They glanced at him, but they didn't say anything.

**Balladeer: Now, with seven men and Kelly, it didn't take too long to unload the van – even if there was almost twenty-four years of Kelly's life in it … well, most of it; Kelly did leave a few things in Hazzard and D.C. – seein' how those two places were her homes, too. After they finished Alan invited Cooter, Enos, and the Dukes to stay for lunch before they headed out, and soon everyone was gathered around the dining table, eating sandwiches and chips, while Paul and a couple of other agents kept vigil nearby.**

"Tell me," Don said, "were there any quiet days in Hazzard?" The Hazzard natives looked at each other and broke into laughter. "What?"

"Son," Cooter said, "I could get more peace in the White House kitchen than you can find most days in Hazzard."

"Amen to that, Sheepdog," Kelly replied, raising her glass of ginger ale.

"Okay, that's the second time you called him a sheepdog," Don said. "What's the deal?"

"That's his CB handle," Kelly answered. "We all have CB handles in Hazzard; helps keep us from getting each other mixed up when we're talking."

"You mean like truck drivers have?" Alan asked.

Kelly nodded. "Yep," replied.

"So, he's Sheepdog?" Charlie asked. Kelly nodded. "What's yours?"

"Fallen Angel," Kelly replied, smiling proudly.

"Somehow … that does not surprise me," Alan said wryly. He turned to Don. "Donny, I think now would be a good time."

"What?" Kelly asked warily as Don grinned and got up, heading into the kitchen. She glanced at Charlie and Alan, but they remained tightlipped. Don returned a few moments later with a blank manila file folder. He handed it to Kelly before sitting back down. "What is this?"

"Just open it," Don said, smiling.

Kelly gave him a wary expression, but she opened the folder. Everyone watched her expression change from wary to stunned as she flipped through the small stack of papers. Her eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead before she looked up at Don. "Is this legit?" she asked.

"What is it, pumpkin?" Cooter asked.

"It's an application for an internship position," Kelly said slowly. "At the FBI field office in L.A." She looked over at Don.

"Yeah, it's legit," Don said. "Figured since you showed such an interest in serial killers and profiling you could do your internship in it."

"You want our little Kelly workin' for the government?" Luke asked warily.

"It'd only be for six months," Don replied. "And she'd be working under one of our best agents, so it wouldn't be like she'd be on her own."

"Agent Reeves?" Kelly asked. Don nodded. "Well, at least I'd be working for the smart one." Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Funny," Don replied. "Watch it, missy." Kelly grinned and flipped through her papers. Enos leaned over and saw something that caught his interest; he plucked up one of the papers out and looked at it.

"Now, what do we have here?" Enos said. "Background check." He glanced at Don, grinning. "You got Kelly's background checked out … and you still got approval to let her work at the F.B.I.?"

"Hilarious," Kelly replied sarcastically, snatching the paper back from Enos.

"Well, darlin'," Bo replied, "you gotta admit you got yerself quite a reputation." He turned to the Eppes. "I remember when Kelly here was a li'l streaker."

"Okay, hold it just a second," Kelly said. "You four," she pointed to Cooter, Enos, and the Dukes, "don't get to say anything about anything I did when I was a kid that involved me streaking." She pointed to Enos. "He already took care of it, so we don't need a rehash."

Cooter smiled. "Well, how about all the times you got popped?"

"Now, that would take three days to tell," Luke said. "We could go with how many times she blew somethin' up."

"That would take a week to tell 'em everythin'," Bo replied.

"I hate you," Kelly replied, narrowing her eyes at the four men.

"What about all the times she got kidnapped?" Bo asked.

Enos narrowed his eyes slightly, making a quick mental calculation. "Two days," he estimated. "Gettin' warmer."

Kelly folded her arms. "How about all the times I actually behaved?" she asked.

Cooter, Enos, Bo, and Luke looked at each other. "Three minutes," they all said at once.

Charlie suddenly broke out into laughter, and Kelly whapped him with her file folder. "Hey, what was that for?" he asked.

"For laughing at me," Kelly replied. She turned to her men. "You guys don't get to say a word about anything embarrassing about me."

The clock ticked in the background.

"Why is everyone so quiet?" Alan asked.

"Well, we can't talk about anythin' that embarrassed Kelly," Cooter replied. "Which means we ain't gonna be talkin'."

"Okay," Don said, after a few moments. "Well, we can talk about Charlie then."

Charlie jerked his head at his brother. "You most certainly will not," he said. "Besides, you don't know anything."

Don messed with some food on his plate, not looking up. "Wanna bet?"

Charlie got a deer-in-the-headlights look again. "You wouldn't."

Don looked up and smiled. "When he was a couple weeks old we discovered that he had the cutest lit -" He was cut off when he became part of a rather messy ham and mayo sandwich.

"Hey, hey now, boys," Alan said sternly. "Behave! Can't you see we have company?"

"Yeah, boy," Charlie said to Don, mockingly. "Can't you see we have company?"

Alan turned back to their guests conversationally. "Actually, he was almost three weeks old when it really started to become visible," he said. "I'd looked for it before, but I hadn't s -"

"DAD!" Charlie yelled, his face red from embarrassment. He glanced over and saw Kelly turning red from trying not to laugh. "Oh, don't you even say a word."

It took Kelly a few moments to compose herself before she could talk. "Retribution, Dr. Eppes," she said, snickering. Charlie gave her an odd expression. "You enjoyed my streaking stories, I get to enjoy this."

Charlie narrowed his eyes at her. "So, are you going to accept or what?" he asked, folding his arms.

"Huh?" Kelly asked. Charlie nodded at her folder. "Oh, that." She glanced at the folder in her hands and took in a deep breath. "Well, I did enjoy my time at Quantico doing my research articles." She reflexively glanced up at her father, trying to gauge his reaction. Kelly could see that he really wanted to say no, but he was smiling, silently telling her that she had his blessing – and that meant a lot to the young woman. She smiled back, thanking him with her eyes before turning to Don. "When can I start?"

Don smiled. "There are a few more things that have to be taken care of," he said, "but I think you should be able to start in a week. That should give you enough time to get unpacked and settled in."

"And get my driver's license," Kelly added. "And a key to the house." She looked pointedly at Charlie.

"Alright, alright," Charlie replied. "I'll get you a key made tomorrow."

Cooter sighed and looked at his watch, and he winced. "Well, I hate to do this, sweetie," he said, "but we gotta get goin'."

"Awww," Kelly said, pouting a little.

"Sorry, pumpkin," Cooter said, "but I gotta get back and help run the country." Everyone got up and headed to the porch, and the Hazzard men said goodbye to the Eppes before heading out with Kelly for a more private goodbye. The Secret Service agents stayed in the area, but they kept their distance from the five.

"Ya sure you wanna do this?" Luke asked as they stopped in front of the limo.

"Yes, I want to do this," Kelly replied, smiling at their worried expressions. "Come on, guys, I'll be fine."

"Now, ya know no matter what ya say," Bo replied, "ya ain't gonna change our minds about worryin' about ya."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Kelly said, smiling. She hugged her surrogate uncles and Enos tightly, promising to write them as often as she could.

**Balladeer: Well, actually, Enos promised to write her, since he was still being mysterious about his current livin' arrangements.**

Enos left in his Escort, and the Duke boys got into the limo, giving Cooter and Kelly some private time. For a few seconds the two just stood, not sure what to say. Finally, Cooter leaned over and hugged her tightly.

"Ya take care of yerself, you hear me?" he asked softly, trying to keep his Southern-laced voice from cracking. "I mean it."

"I'll be fine," Kelly replied, trying not to cry, hugging him back just as tightly.

"I know," Cooter said before pulling back, smiling. In that instant he wasn't looking Kelly, standing before him all grown up; he saw his seven-year-old baby girl, her long brown hair in two pigtails, dressed in a shirt and pair of muddied overalls and bare feet, holding a half-eaten cob of buttered corn in her tiny hands and staring up at him with big green eyes.

"Now, hurry up, Daddy," the little girl said, her little voice high-pitched and soft. "You don't wanna miss your flight." Cooter blinked, and Kelly was all grown up again, giving him a curious look. "You okay, Daddy?"

Cooter furrowed his eyebrows, then he quickly shook himself back to the present and smiled, taking a deep breath. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'm fine." He kissed her forehead. "I'll call you when I get in."

"You'd better," Kelly said, grinning.

Cooter smiled before getting into the limo. His detail followed, and Kelly watched the limo pull away from the curb and drive off. The young woman waved until the car was gone from sight, and she sighed as she lowered her hand, staring sadly off in the distance.

Paul walked up to the young woman, and he glanced down, seeing her expression. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kelly said, smiling, even though she still felt a little sad. "So, uh, when's Agent McPherson showing up?" Trisha McPherson was from the D.C. headquarters, hand-picked by Kelly as the only female agent on her detail, but she wouldn't be able to start until later that day due to family issues.

Paul looked at his watch. "She should be here by six," he said.

"Plenty time for me to get unpacked," Kelly said. She turned and headed up the walk to her new home with Paul close behind.

- - - -

**Balladeer: Kelly had insisted on unpackin' everythin' herself … and the Eppes men respected that, knowin' how important it was for her to get settled under her own terms. Now, with all the stuff that Kelly had moved into the house, it was takin' her all day to unpack – that girl couldn't just put stuff up … she had to examine everythin' and reminisce, which usually involved her getting' all teary-eyed – and goin' through an entire box of tissues within hours of bein' there.**

Six o'clock rolled around and Charlie finally decided to see how Kelly's progress was coming along. Hours earlier, Alan had ventured in with lunch, and he stayed there for quite some time before leaving; when Don and Charlie questioned him he suddenly turned into the Man of Many Secrets. Finally, Charlie couldn't stand the suspense anymore and went upstairs, peeking inside Kelly's room. His eyebrows rose when he saw moving boxes half-opened all around the room, with some things pulled out and put up and other things strewn everywhere – and Kelly sitting cross-legged in the middle of the entire mess, a photo album in her hands, sniffling and laughing softly as she flipped through the pages.

"Hey," Charlie said.

Kelly looked up, and she smiled. "Hey, Charlie."

"You okay?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, just going through one of my photo albums," Kelly replied. She beckoned him over, and he came in, joining her on the floor. She held out the album, showing Charlie some photos of her and her father in the garage when she was five years old. He was a little off-balance at seeing the Vice President younger … and greasier, but he laughed at little Kelly.

"That's you?" Charlie asked, grinning. "You were a cute little thing." He smirked. "What happened?"

Kelly grinned. "Watch it, or I'll talk more with your father about your little -"

"Okay, okay," Charlie said quickly. He stopped when he saw something that caught his attention. "Whoa."

"What?" Kelly asked.

"Your eyes," Charlie answered. "They're not green." Her left eye was blue, and her right eye was brown. Kelly suddenly looked down, getting a self-conscious look on her face. Charlie assumed he had done something wrong, and he felt bad, his face falling. "Um … I'm sorry."

"No, it's not you," Kelly said. "I, uh … I guess I can tell you." She took a deep breath. "This is my natural look … well, it is now, anyway." Charlie looked confused. "I had green eyes when I was a baby and for part of my childhood, but when I was a teenager … they changed."

"Why?" Charlie asked.

Kelly shrugged. "They just did. In Hazzard … it didn't really matter, but when Daddy started gaining notoriety, I wanted to blend." She shrugged. "Or to at least be seen as pretty rather than a curiosity. Daddy wasn't really too thrilled with the idea, but he saw that it was important for me, so I finally wore him down – which didn't take too long, partially because I chose my old eye color, and partially because I happen to be really cute – and he agreed to let me get them." She smiled as she glanced over at Charlie, and he gazed at her with an unreadable expression, so she figured he must have been freaked out; she looked down, embarrassed.

"Do you know what the statistical probability of ending up with eyes like yours is?" he asked softly.

Kelly chuckled, a little relieved and a little disappointed that he was turning this into a math thing, but she knew she could go with it. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said. "I know, I know. It's really rare, like only one percent of the total human population."

Charlie shook his head a little bit, still gazing at her eyes, still soft and wondering. "No," he said. "No, you're wrong about that, Miss Davenport."

Kelly turned fully to face him, crossing her arms with that air of 'alright, if you insist, I'm tired but I'll meet your challenge.' "Alright, Dr. Eppes, I give, what are the odds of having eyes like mine?"

"Well, I don't have exact computations to produce the current accurate figure to the thousandth," Charlie said, "but we're talking roughly in the neighborhood of ..." he tilted his head side to side like he was hazarding an estimate, "seven billion to one." He gave her a tiny ghost of a smile that she hadn't seen before; he shrugged. "Label me illogical, but I like those odds." Kelly glanced down, smiling and blushing as she brushed a strand of hair from her face. Suddenly, it clicked with Charlie. "Hey, is that why my dad was up here earlier?"

"Yeah," Kelly replied. She looked up, smiling. "He caught me taking them out when they started bothering me because I'd been crying so much from unpacking this stuff."

"So, what did he say?" Charlie asked.

"Well, after I told him what I just told you," Kelly said, "he got all philosophical on me and pointed out that it seemed to him my contacts have become like a mask to me that represent a form of anonymity. He then went on to say that, since I'm moving in here and trying to start a career and a life, I need to start thinking about whether I can be ready to take off the mask and let everyone see a part of what makes me stand out." She chuckled. "I guess your father's getting really old if he's already forgotten the other stuff I've done that's already made me stand out here."

Charlie smiled. "I think he's talking about what makes you Kelly," he said. "Not what makes you the public figure, the Vice President's daughter …" he smiled as he tapped a photo in the album "over even the mechanic's rugrat or the town troublemaker. Just simply Kelly Angelica Davenport." Another strand of hair had fallen into Kelly's face, and he reached over, brushing it back and tucking it behind her ear.

Kelly blushed a little, but she smiled at him. The two just stared at each other for a few seconds, then Kelly leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. She pulled back, but only a little bit. She looked into his eyes for a few seconds before leaning slightly toward him, lips slightly parted. Charlie knew what she was going to do, and his heart pounded as he leaned in a little to meet her; their lips slightly brushed, then –

A 'Walking In Memphis' ringtone started playing, interrupting the moment. The two pulled back, Kelly looking a little embarrassed, and Charlie tried not to look disappointed as Kelly searched for her phone. She finally found it under some nearby papers and flipped it open.

"Hey, Cheryl," Kelly said, smiling. "How's it going?" She listened and nodded. "Yeah, I'm almost done …" she glanced around her room, "sorta." She listened for a few seconds, and her smile slowly faded. "Uh, yeah … I understand." She smiled a little, trying to make her voice sound happy again. "No, really, I do. It's your father. Go … yeah, I'll be fine. Take care." She hung up and sighed, her smile fading.

"Everything okay?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, that was a college friend of mine," Kelly replied. "She works downtown, and she invited me to go out to a club tonight, since she knew I was moving here."

"So, what's the problem?" Charlie asked.

"Her father fell off a ladder and broke his leg," Kelly answered. "He's fine, but she wants to stay with him, which I understand perfectly." She sighed. "I just … kinda wanted to get out and celebrate tonight."

Charlie felt bad for her, and he wished he could make her feel better … then he thought of something perfect. "Well, I could go with you … wherever you planned on going."

Kelly looked over, smiling like he was telling a joke. "You want to go clubbing?" she asked. She shook her head, laughing.

"What?" Charlie asked, looking insulted. "I can go clubbing. I'm cool." That remark only caused Kelly to laugh harder. "Hey, I'll have you know that I single-handedly threw a kegger when I was at Princeton."

Kelly stopped laughing and gave him a curious look. "Weren't you thirteen when you attended Princeton?" she asked. Charlie looked a little sheepish. "Okay, do Don and your father know that?"

"Yeah, so we don't need to bring that up with them," Charlie said, looking uncomfortable. He tilted his head to one side and smiled at her. "So, can I come with you? Have I proven myself worthy of 'clubbing' with Miss Davenport?"

Kelly looked him up and down, noticing his faded jeans, pale purple t-shirt with the 'Pi' symbol on it, and a pair of worn-out sneakers. "Change into something a little classier," she said, "and you've got yourself a deal." She grinned as Charlie looked at a spot on the far wall, contemplating her offer, then he got up and headed for his room. The young woman shook her head, grinning to herself, then she realized she hadn't unpacked any of her clothes. She scrambled to her feet and hurried to some of the packed boxes, opening them to search for something to wear.

(End of Chapter 18)


	19. Chapter 19

- - - - 

Charlie headed out of his room and down the stairs; he stopped short when he saw his father and brother sitting in the living room, pretending to read different sections of the day's newspaper. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Okay, you two can stop pretending," he said. The two looked over innocently. "And stop with the innocent looks."

"What?" Alan asked. He glanced at Charlie's outfit. "You're wearing that on your date?"

"It's not a date," Charlie said quickly. He stopped and looked down at his clothes: a light blue button-down slacker shirt - cut to fit and worn untucked with a dark fitted sports coat over it; fashionably faded jeans (dark gray with faded gray areas); and black K Swiss boots. "And what's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Because it's a 'business meets slacker' look," Don replied. "You're going to a club, Charlie, not teaching a lecture on some obscure mathematical equation."

"Well, at least I'm going out," Charlie said smugly. "Unlike a certain nameless brother who is currently spending his Friday night with his father in the living room of his younger brother's house."

Don opened his mouth to say something just as the front door opened and Paul came in with a young woman behind him. She had brown hair and eyes, and she – like Paul - wore a black suit (sans ties). Don turned to his brother. "You are so lucky they came in," he threatened jokingly as he pointed a finger at his younger brother.

Charlie smiled and turned to the female agent. "Agent McPherson?" he asked.

"Trisha, please," the woman replied, holding out her hand. "Dr. Eppes?"

"Charlie," the mathematician answered, shaking Trisha's hand.

"The car's ready," Paul replied. "Where's Kelly?"

"I'm coming," Kelly said as she walked down the stairs. She wore a light blue halter top, black vinyl pants, and one inch gold party shoes. Her hair was swept to one side with a sparkling gold clip, and she wore her locket and large gold hoop earrings; she carried a blue clutch in her left hand. She stopped at the foot of the stairs, noticing everyone staring at her. "What?"

"You're wearing that?" Alan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I am," Kelly replied, smiling. She turned to Trisha, holding out her hand. "Agent McPherson, nice to see you again."

"Same here, Miss Davenport," the agent replied, smiling. "And please call me Trisha."

"Only if you'll call me Kelly," the younger woman replied, smiling.

"Deal," Trisha replied.

"Does your dad know about that outfit?" Don asked, speaking up.

"Don, I am an adult, so I can wear pretty much whatever I want to," Kelly pointed out, "but, yes, he does know about this. I told him as soon as Cheryl and I made our plans last week where we were going to go, what we were going to do, and what I planned on wearing; he was okay with it." She grinned. "I could wear those short shorts instead."

"That's quite okay," Paul said.

"So, where are you guys going?" Alan asked.

"The Highlands," Charlie replied.

"Isn't that in Hollywood?" Don asked.

"Yep," Kelly replied, smiling. She turned to Trisha and Paul. "Are we ready?"

"Do you have your panic button?" Paul asked.

Kelly reached into her clutch and pulled out a little black object about the size of a five-stick pack of chewing gum; she held it up, showing the small red button on one side. "Got it," she said.

"'Panic button?'" Alan asked, looking concerned.

"For situations where Paul or Trisha are close by but far enough away where calling for help could attract attention," Kelly explained. "Like if I'm in my bedroom alone – or at a party or something. I mean, I can't have them around me all the time … so, this helps. I just press the button, and it's tuned to the frequency of their radios, so they'll come rushing over when it signals." Alan didn't look too convinced. "Alan, I'll be fine. Besides, I have Charlie protecting me." She winked at Alan and Don, and the two of them grinned when they saw Charlie blushing a little. Kelly stuffed the device back into her clutch and put her arm through his. "Come on, let's go party."

Don and Alan watched, still grinning, as Charlie gave Kelly a slight 'deer-in-the-headlights' look; the young woman opened the front door and pulled him out, with Trisha and Paul following behind them.

"You know, I really wish I had taken some pictures," Alan said. "I mean, how many times do you think Charlie's going to be going out on a date?"

"Now, technically, it's not a date," Don replied.

"Yeah, but we wouldn't have to say that," Alan said. "And with photographic evidence of him leaving the house with a girl … well, who'd believe him if he protested it?" Don and Alan looked at each other, then they burst out laughing.

- - - -

The Highlands rocked with energy as Charlie and Kelly walked in the front entrance; Paul and Trisha were behind them. Lights flashed, people danced and laughed, and music blared. Charlie felt a little out of place as he looked around, but Kelly grinned as she grabbed Charlie and pulled him over to an empty table while the two agents walked to the areas they had chosen earlier that week.

"What can I get you two?" a waitress asked as she came over to the table.

"Coke," Charlie replied.

"You want some rum in that Coke?" the waitress asked.

"No thanks," Charlie replied.

"And what about you, honey?" the waitress looked at Kelly.

"Blue Lagoon, please," Kelly replied. The waitress left, and Kelly noticed Charlie giving her a strange look. "What?"

"What's a Blue Lagoon?" Charlie asked.

"Two ounces vodka," Kelly replied. "One ounce Blue Curacao and six ounces lemonade." A fast-beat song started, and Kelly grinned. "Oh, I love this song!" She grabbed Charlie and pulled him to the dance floor as Paul and Trisha watched from their posts.

"I told you I can't dance!" Charlie shouted.

"So?" Kelly asked, moving to the beat. "Didn't you tell me that numbers are in everything? You just gotta find a beat and stick with it!" She moved to the beat, and motioned Charlie to follow her as the lyrics blared out from the speakers.

Charlie grinned as he finally synched his moves with Kelly, and the two danced across the floor. Charlie tilted his head, mesmerized as Kelly moved around the floor. He had never seen her act like that … and he was glad he could be there to see her that happy. He had felt a little disappointed that they hadn't kissed earlier that night, and part of him wondered if he would get another chance, but he knew it was never going to happen. Still, it didn't keep him wondering about the possibility.

When the music ended Kelly grinned as she took Charlie's hand, and they walked back to their table, just as the waitress brought over their drinks. As Charlie sipped his Coke, Kelly took a large gulp of her Blue Lagoon. She grimaced a little and then smiled, sighing and shaking her head.

"That's a good Lagoon," she said. "How's your Coke?"

"Sweet and carbonated," Charlie replied, taking another sip of his drink. "So, you looking forward to your new job?"

Kelly polished off her drink and held it up, facing the bar. "Refill!" The waitress came over and took her empty drink.

"Hey, uh, maybe you should wait a little bit," Charlie gently said.

"I am waiting," Kelly replied. "I'm waiting for her to return." Charlie raised an eyebrow, and Kelly smiled. "Now, about that job: yep, glad to be starting. I mean, it kinda sucks they won't be giving me a gun … I could cause some serious damage with one of those suckers."

"Well, you're just an intern," Charlie replied. "They usually don't give guns to interns." The waitress came back with another drink for Kelly.

"Well, maybe they should," Kelly replied. She took a big gulp, then she hiccupped a little and giggled as she covered her mouth. "Excuse me."

"Are you okay?" Charlie asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm great," Kelly replied. She took another sip of her drink. "I'm starting a new job next week, I got a great new place to live, and I'm living with three of the hottest men in Los Angeles – one in particular." She winked at Charlie, then she hiccupped and laughed, snorting. She polished off her drink and raised her empty glass. "Refill!"

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. "Kelly," he gently said, "you've already had two of those in less than twenty minutes. Maybe you should hold off for a while."

"Do you want another Coke?" Kelly asked.

Charlie replied, "No, -" He stopped when he saw as Kelly got up and stumbled toward the bar. Charlie sighed, wishing that Paul and Trisha would step in and stop her, but he knew that wasn't part of their job description. He looked over and saw Kelly approach the bar after pushing and shoving through the crowd, then she said something to the bartender and sat on a stool. Charlie hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath as he got up, grabbing Kelly's clutch and heading over. It may not have been part of their job description, but there was nothing preventing Charlie from putting a halt to it. He pushed and shoved his way across the dance floor, finally making it to the other side, and he stopped short.

Kelly was sitting on a bar stool, laughing – clearly drunk by that point – and a swarthy-looking guy with a goatee sat next to her, talking to her. He couldn't have been younger than Charlie, and the mathematician rolled his eyes. Perv, he thought. Charlie saw him say something to Kelly, causing her to laugh uncontrollably – then Charlie saw the jerk reach over and squirt a liquid into her drink with a dropper tucked into the palm of his hand.

The guy would soon regret making that error in judgment.

Charlie saw the world in shades of red as he marched over and grabbed the hand that held the dropper, his fingers intertwining with the culprit's; the mathematician knew everyone was staring at him, but he didn't care. The jerk then tried to push against Charlie, but Charlie pushed back with a stronger force, a force that was fueled by anger at what the sleaze had planned on doing with Kelly; at that point, there was nothing in the world that could counteract it.

Physics was definitely on Charlie's side as he stood over the guy, his hand tightened in a vice-like grip as the force bent the jerk's wrist, forcing the guy to his knees, the angled pressure tearing at ligaments and tendons. In a matter of seconds, Charlie heard the cannonade of pops as the guy's wrist dislocated forward; the jerk howled in pain, and Charlie felt an uncharacteristic satisfaction.

"Whoa, Charlie, that's totally awesome!" Kelly shouted, leaning over, her eyes wide with wonder. "How are you doin' that?"

Charlie turned around to face her, and the guy managed to rise back up and take a swing at the mathematician. Charlie felt the sudden shift, and he turned back just in time to see knuckles centimeters from his eye – hard and motionless.

"I'd suggest you reconsider that, pal," a low voice growled dangerously in the perp's ear. "I feel an arrest for attempted sexual assault coming on; you don't really want to add aggravated assault of a federal employee to that, do you?"

"Booyah!" Kelly shouted, holding up her fist – and losing her center of balance. She fell backwards off her stool onto the floor, but she simply giggled as she sat there.

Trisha had been standing nearby, ready to jump into action, and she walked over to Kelly's side, helping the young woman to her feet. "You okay?" she asked quietly.

"Peachy," Kelly said drunkenly. "Can I have another Lue Bagoon?"

"I think you've had enough," Trisha replied slowly. She looked over at Charlie. "What happened?"

"This … jerk," Charlie said, glaring at the guy, "slipped something into her drink."

Paul motioned for Charlie to let go of the culprit, and Charlie reluctantly did. Paul hoisted the guy to his feet and turned him around, slamming him to the bar. He began patting him down. The bartender motioned near the front door, and the two large bouncers standing there made their way over, but Trisha handed Kelly over to Charlie and walked over in front of Paul, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out her badge.

"This is a federal matter," Trisha said, showing her badge, "so please keep your distance, or you'll be facing an obstruction of justice charge." The bouncers stopped. "Good, now, do me a favor – keep this crowd back so we can do our job." The two turned and obeyed Trisha's order. The female agent turned to her partner. "Find anything?"

"Oh, I think so," Paul said as he pulled out a small bottle filled with a clear liquid. He read the label. "Ketamine. Call for backup." He glared at the culprit as Trisha brought her wrist to her mouth, saying something; she nodded after a few moments, then Paul leaned in close. "You're coming with us."

Working with a plan they had already devised, Paul held the would-be-rapist as he led him toward the back, with Trisha and Charlie escorting a wobbly Kelly. The five left the club and walked into the alley behind the building as two black government-issued cars pulled up. While Paul went with the culprit in the first car, Trisha put Charlie and Kelly into the back of the second car before taking the front passenger side. Both cars pulled away, heading into traffic. At a nearby intersection they diverged, Paul and the first car heading to Downtown LA to interrogate the suspect; the second car headed back to the Eppes house.

Trisha turned around in her seat to see Kelly laying lopsided against Charlie, grinning. "Kelly, you okay back there?" she asked.

"I'm great," Kelly replied. She patted Charlie's chest. "Thanks to Charlie – my hero."

"I'm not a hero," Charlie replied quietly, his temper still high after what happened.

"Yes, you are," Kelly insisted. "And because of that, I have to give you a reward." She didn't give him a chance to reply as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the lips. Charlie muffled a protest as he struggled against the young woman, trying to break free, but Kelly held tight. Trisha watched from her seat, an eyebrow raised, trying to figure out if she should be worried … or amused. After a few seconds Kelly pulled back at little, smiling as she kept her arms around Charlie; Charlie looked very uncomfortable as he tried to catch his breath.

"You know," Kelly said softly, "I think I need to do more to show you how grateful I am, Chucky boy."

"Um … that's okay," Charlie replied, trying to gently push her off him. "That was good enough … really."

"No, you saved my life," Kelly said. "Twice! I have to repay you for doing that." She lowered her voice and smiled seductively. "Why don't you spend the night with me?"

Charlie's eyes grew ten times in size. "I, uh … I, uh …," he said slowly, his face crimson. "I, uh, I'm really flattered … but I …" He hesitated, part of him thinking 'here's your chance – take it.' He quickly shook that thought from his head, knowing how wrong it would be. "I … I can't."

"Course you can," Kelly insisted. She paused, then her eyes grew wide. "Ohhhhh, you mean you can't." She looked at him sympathetically. "It's okay, Charlie. I still think you're hot."

Trisha had to turn around in her seat, biting her lower lip – it would have been totally inappropriate if she had laughed. She watched as the car pulled into the Eppes driveway a short time later, and she got out. She opened the backdoor, and Charlie scooted out, holding Kelly in his arms. Trisha escorted the two up the walk as the car backed into the street and drove off.

About halfway up the walk, Kelly suddenly moaned. "I don't feel good," she mumbled. Suddenly, she leaned over Charlie's shoulder – and promptly threw up. Charlie stopped short and grimaced, but he didn't move as the young woman vomited on his back. He didn't say anything until he was certain Kelly had finished.

"How bad is it?" Charlie asked Trisha as she stood next to him.

Trisha leaned back and wrinkled her nose when she saw the damage. She looked at Charlie. "I'm afraid it doesn't look good," she said. Charlie nodded, then continued up the walk.

Alan was working a crossword puzzle, and Don was watching the sports channel when the front door opened; they looked over as Charlie walked in with Kelly in his arms, her cheeks bright red, and Trisha behind them; both father and son stood up, looking concerned.

"Charlie, what happened?" Alan asked.

Charlie's expression was tight. "You want to know what happened?" he asked, trying to keep his voice reined in. "I'll tell you what happened. First of all, she," he glanced down at Kelly, "got drunk."

"Whoa, Kelly's drunk?" Don asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I ain't drunk!" Kelly protested in a deep Southern accent.

"She's drunk," Don said flatly.

"Yeah," Alan replied slowly. "That would be my guess - when she starts sounding like Dolly Parton, we know what kind of morning we're in for." He sighed and looked at his younger son. "What else, Charlie?"

"Then some perverted son of a bh slipped Ketamine into her drink," Charlie replied. "Thankfully, Paul and Trisha took care of the situation before she could drink any of it."

"Ketamine?" Don asked, frowning, suddenly feeling very protective. "That's a date rape drug."

"Yeah, I know," Charlie replied.

"Where's the guy now?" Alan asked, feeling an anger welling up inside him.

"Agent Holden has taken the suspect downtown to interrogate him," Trisha explained.

"Oh, and then Kelly decided to throw up on me," Charlie added, turning around to show his back. "My favorite sports coat is ruined … and the front walk needs to be hosed down."

"Well, now I know where the smell was coming from," Don replied, wrinkling his nose. He sighed. "Well, I guess we get her to bed. You sure she's okay, Charlie?"

"No, I ain't okay," Kelly suddenly spoke up, very annoyed. "I asked nicely and everythin', but Charlie said that he couldn't have sex with me!" She pointed a finger at Don and Alan, whose eyebrows had nearly popped off their heads; she couldn't see that Charlie's face was a deep red once again. "You need to teach him what's what, 'cause I ain't gettin' any younger – and Charlie here's prime real-estate." She suddenly pointed her finger at Charlie. "You know, I just thought of somethin': they do make a pill for that. I mean, how hard can it be?"

"Okay," Don said slowly. "Uh, Charlie, maybe I should take her to her room."

"No, I'll take her," Charlie replied.

Kelly grinned. "Now, yer talkin'!" She winked at Don and Alan. "Don't wait up for us." Charlie sighed and turned around, heading up the stairs, and Kelly suddenly belted into song. "'Just the good ole boys! Never meanin' no harm! Beats all you never saw, been in trouble with the law, since the day they was born!'" Don and Alan stood there, trying to figure out whether to laugh or sympathize. They glanced at Trisha, who stood around, looking like a fish out of water.

"So, how are you liking your first night with Kelly?" Alan asked.

"Well, I knew she was a bit rambunctious," Trisha replied slowly, "but I never expected this."

"Yeah, well, neither did we," Alan muttered in a fatherly tone. He sighed as he rubbed his face with his hand. "So, who's going to be calling the Vice-President?"

"We'll inform him as soon as Agent Holden is done questioning the suspect," Trisha replied.

"Could you maybe not do that?" Alan suggested. "Let Kelly call her father herself."

Trisha paused, then she nodded. "I think that can be arranged." She brought her wrist up and spoke into it, then she sighed when she finished. "I'm going to keep an eye on Kelly." She slowly headed up the stairs.

- - - -

Charlie pushed Kelly's bedroom door opened with his foot and walked in. He didn't turn on the lights as he maneuvered around the boxes and other things until he came to her bed; he sat her down, supporting her with one arm around her waist as he used his other hand to push things out of the way.

"Do you know any good songs, Charlie?" Kelly asked.

"Not at the moment," Charlie replied, trying not to sound too upset. He helped her into a laying position, her head resting on her pillows. He gently removed the clip in Kelly's hair and put it on her nightstand, then he moved down to take off her shoes, carefully putting them on the floor; he wanted to remove her locket, but he wasn't sure how he would be able to accomplish that while she lay in that position. He got up and walked into the bathroom, grabbing the wastebasket and bringing it back, setting it beside Kelly's bed. He was turning to leave when Kelly grabbed his wrist.

"Wait," she said softly.

Charlie turned around and looked down at her. "What?" he asked. She beckoned him with her finger to get closer, and he reluctantly knelt beside the bed. "What do you want, Kelly?"

Kelly slowly turned over onto her stomach, bracing herself on her arms as she looked at Charlie. "You're really a nice guy," she said softly. "I had a great time tonight." Charlie tried to ignore the alcohol on her breath as he forced a small smile. "I mean it … you're a really great guy …." She trailed off as she looked into his eyes. "I love you, Charlie."

Charlie looked at her sadly, knowing she was only saying that because she was drunk. He opened his mouth to say something, but Kelly's eyes suddenly rolled back – and she passed out face-down on the pillow, snoring.

For a moment Charlie just stared at her, then he gently moved her head until she was facing him. He reached over and carefully removed her locket, placing it on the nightstand, then brushed some strands from her face; he stopped short when he felt how feverish she seemed …. He tilted his head, wondering if she had a fever, but he figured it was probably a symptom of her drunkenness. He watched her for a few more seconds before getting up, taking a blanket bunched up on the other side and carefully covered her with it, then he headed for the door; he stopped in the doorway, one foot in her room, one foot out, torn between his conscience and his self-image.

"You know," Trisha said softly as she walked over to him, "I never got a chance to thank you for your help."

"It's okay," Charlie replied quietly. "It's no big deal."

"Charlie, it is a big deal," Trisha replied. "You helped Kelly when we couldn't." She paused. "You also showed a lot of character by not returning Kelly's advances earlier." Charlie didn't say anything, but he did look a little embarrassed as he watched Kelly. Trisha could see Charlie's expression, and she took a deep breath. "Look, I know it doesn't make it all better, but I'm already starting to forget it happened … and I'll make sure the same thing happens with the driver." She put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Get some rest. You've earned it." She left Charlie, heading for the stairs.

Charlie watched her leave, then he turned back to watch Kelly. After a few seconds he sighed and closed her bedroom door, then headed for his room, worn and angry.

**Balladeer: Now, folks, I normally don't get disappointed with Kelly, but I am tonight … and I have a feelin' a lot of other people are too.**

(End of Chapter 19)


	20. Chapter 20

- - - - 

The next morning Kelly stirred and opened her eyes – and she immediately regretted it. Her head pounded like a blacksmith working on a new pair of horseshoes, and the sunlight streaming in through her window only made the matters worse. Her vision was slightly blurred, and her stomach churned like a mixer set on whip. She groaned as she rubbed her head and sat up – and a wave of vertigo hit her like a ton of bricks; she moaned as she flopped back onto her pillows.

After a few seconds she tried again … and managed to stay upright, even though it did make her eyes cross. She stumbled out of bed into the bathroom and turned on the sink's cold water tap and splashed some cold water on her face, then looked up at her reflection in the mirror. The young woman almost didn't recognize herself: her eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark circles under them. She sighed and splashed some more water on her face before patting it dry with a nearby towel, then slowly walked out of the bathroom, heading down the hall.

Kelly carefully made her way down the stairs and padded through the living room. She stopped when she saw no one there, then she heard voices coming from the dining room. She slowly walked over and stopped just outside the door, seeing Charlie, Alan, Don, and Trisha sitting at the table, eating breakfast and talking. They stopped when they saw Kelly standing there, and the young woman suddenly felt very uncomfortable – and not from the hangover.

After a few seconds of silence Alan got to his feet and headed into the kitchen. He returned moments later and walked over to the young woman, with a glass of water and two aspirin. "Here," he said in an emotionless tone. "You might need these."

Kelly silently took the pills and swallowed them, slowly drinking the water before handing the empty glass back to Alan. "Thank you," she said softly.

"How do you feel?" Don asked from his spot.

"Like Riverdance did a three hour performance on my head," Kelly replied, rubbing her forehead. "And I feel dizzy, and my stomach hurts too."

"Well, that's usually what happens after you get plastered out of your mind," Charlie said angrily as he got up from the table and brushed past his father and Kelly, heading up the stairs.

"Okay, I think I deserved that," Kelly replied softly, more to herself than anyone else. She sighed and rubbed her head again.

"Why don't you sit down?" Alan suggested. Kelly nodded and took a seat next to Trisha, keeping her eyes down, too embarrassed to look at anyone. Alan went back to his chair and sat down, watching the young woman. "So, what happened last night?"

"Um …," Kelly replied slowly, racking her mind. "Well, I remember Charlie and me orderin' our drinks … he got a Coke and I got a Blue Lagoon … then we danced … then our drinks came … I drank mine … then it got really fuzzy after that …."

"You don't remember anything after your first drink?" Trisha asked.

Kelly slowly shook her head. "I can't hold my liquor very well," she said. "I, uh, I have aldehyde dehydrogenase deficiency."

"What's that?" Alan asked.

"It's a deficiency of the enzyme that processes alcohol in the body," Kelly replied. "People who have it and drink get flushed faces, increased heart rate, dizziness, nausea, headaches … raised body temperature."

"I've heard about that," Trisha replied. "Doesn't it normally affect Asian people?"

Kelly shrugged. "Yeah, but it does happen in other people too. Daddy and I found out I had it when I was sixteen."

"Sneak some beer?" Don asked, wryly.

"Actually, Daddy let me have a sip of his," Kelly replied. "He believed if I had a sip, I'd hate beer and never go near it again."

"And?" Alan asked.

"I never took a sip of beer again after that," Kelly answered. "Course, after that sip, I spent a couple days in the hospital. Totally freaked everyone out … the doctor sent my blood to Atlanta, and that's when they found out about the enzyme deficiency."

"So, you knew you had this deficiency that causes you to have these problems when you drink," Don said, frowning, "and you still drank?" Kelly slowly nodded, and Don sighed. "Okay, excuse me for stating the obvious, but that was a pretty stupid thing to do, Kelly."

"I know," Kelly said softly.

"Then why did you do it?" Alan asked.

"Can we talk about this later?" Kelly asked. "My head is really killin' me … and I feel like I'm gonna hurl."

"Fine," Alan replied. "We'll talk later … but you will be talking to someone about this now."

"Charlie?" Kelly asked.

"Him too," Alan replied. "I'm talking about your father."

Kelly slowly looked over, and even through her haggard expression Alan could see how scared she was. "Does he know?" she asked.

"I'd imagine so," Alan replied, holding up the paper, showing her the front page. 'Daughter Davenport Drunkard' was plastered on the front page in bold black letters.

Kelly read the headline, then groaned and put her head in her hands, resting her elbows on the table. "I'm gonna go crawl back into bed and die," she said.

"After you call your father," Trisha replied. "You can tell him what you did – and what nearly happened."

"What nearly happened?" Kelly asked cautiously, wondering what she had done – or almost had done.

Trisha took a deep breath. "Some guy slipped Ketamine into one of your drinks," she said.

**Balladeer: Now, there ain't much that scares Kelly, but when she learned about what that lowdown snake slipped into her drink, knowing what Ketamine was … well, you could just see the fear in Kelly's bloodshot eyes.**

Kelly stared at Trisha, mortified. "Oh my gosh," she said softly. "I don't remember that." She paused. "Did anythin' -"

"Nothing happened," Trisha replied quickly. "Paul took the guy downtown last night while Charlie and I brought you home."

Kelly couldn't believe what had happened … and that she couldn't remember any of it. "What else …?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.

"Well, you have to hose down the front walk," Don replied. "You kinda threw up on it … and Charlie."

"I threw up on Charlie?" Kelly asked in disbelief. "No wonder why he's mad at me … anythin' else I need to know about?"

"No," Alan replied. "Charlie took you to bed, and you passed out."

"Come on," Trisha said, getting to her feet. "I think the sooner you talk to your father, the better." Kelly nodded and got to her feet, and she let Trisha lead her out of the living room and up the stairs. Don and Alan watched, then the agent looked over at his father.

"You think she bought it?" Don asked. Earlier that morning Charlie had talked to them and asked them not to tell Kelly anything about what she had said to Charlie … or had tried to do to him in the car; they had agreed, knowing how important it was for Charlie … and why he was handling it this way.

"I think so," Alan replied. "She seemed a little too out of it to pick up on anything."

Don nodded and got to his feet. "You think you can handle everyone today, or you want me to stay around?" he asked.

"No, I think I can handle things," Alan replied. He smiled. "Go save the world, Donny." Don nodded and headed out the front door. Alan went back to reading his paper and eating his breakfast.

- - - -

Cooter stood in front of one of the windows of his office, looking out at the backyard, a somber expression on his face. He had an immense amount of paperwork to do, but he didn't care; he had other things on his mind at the moment. His phone rang, and he sighed as he moved over to answer it. "Hello?" he asked.

"Hi, Daddy," Kelly's voice said softly. Cooter took in a deep breath as he sat down, staying quiet. "Daddy?"

"I'm here," Cooter replied, his Southern voice calm.

Kelly paused. "Do ya hate me?" she asked quietly.

"No, pumpkin," Cooter replied. "I don't hate ya … I'm just very disappointed right now." Kelly had to blink back tears as she hung her head, even though Cooter couldn't see her; the Vice-President sighed. "Kelly, why did ya do it? Ya know ya can't drink."

"I know," Kelly said, on the verge of crying.

"Then why did ya do it?" Cooter asked.

"I don't know," Kelly said, her voice wavering. "I guess I wanted to prove that I could do it. I mean … you and Uncle Bo and Luke and everyone used to joke about how I was the only person in Hazzard who couldn't hold her liquor … and I guess I thought I could, now that I'm older and out on my own …."

Cooter closed his eyes, feeling a twinge of guilt. "Kelly," he said, "we were just teasin' ya; we didn't mean anythin' by it … but if it bothered ya that much why didn't ya say anythin'? Why did ya do somethin' that ya knew was gonna cause ya pain, 'cause I'm sure yer not feelin' too good right now."

"My head hurts," Kelly said. "And my stomach …."

"Well, I can give ya a recipe for somethin' that helped me when I'd had a little too much," Cooter replied.

"Thanks, Daddy," Kelly replied. She sighed. "I guess ya were right."

"About what?" Cooter asked.

"I don't think it was a good idea for me to live out here," Kelly replied. "I should have stayed in D.C.; I messed up – badly."

"Now, ya wait just a darn minute," Cooter said, his voice getting more fatherly as he furrowed his eyebrows. "Ya think that just because ya made a mistake it gives ya the right to come sulkin' back here like a dog with its tail between its legs?"

"But -"

"Don't 'but' me, young lady," Cooter interrupted. "Ya ain't packin' it in and comin' back just because ya messed up; I taught ya better than that."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" Kelly asked.

"Do what ya did every time ya did somethin' wrong in Hazzard," Cooter replied. "Ya make amends."

"Daddy, I threw up on Charlie," Kelly replied. "He doesn't even wanna be around me."

"Oh, come on, darlin', give me a break," Cooter said. "I've met this Charlie. He's a lot of things, but a Hazzard cannon he ain't."

"What are ya sayin'?" Kelly asked.

Cooter sighed. "Come on, do ya really think he's the type ta shut someone he obviously, er, cares about, just 'cause she urped on him?" He tugged at his collar and cleared his throat.

**Balladeer: Out of all the questions he's ever had to ask … that has got to be the hardest one, 'cause that means he's acceptin' that his daughter has a potential caller … one that she's takin' a shine to as well.**

Kelly sighed. "I guess," she said. There was a pause. "Daddy, there's something' else that happened when I was drunk."

"What is it, sweetie?" Cooter asked.

"Some guy slipped Ketamine into one of my drinks," Kelly said.

"Ya didn't have any, did ya?" Cooter asked, getting concerned; he didn't know what Ketamine was, but he knew it was probably a bad thing.

"No," Kelly replied. She took a deep breath. "So, are we okay?"

Cooter smiled a bit. "Am I ever gonna hear you've been drinkin' again?" he asked.

"No," Kelly replied.

"Then yeah," he said. "We're okay." Kelly smiled, relieved. "Now, about that little remedy …."

- - - -

**Balladeer: Now, Kelly took her father's remedy – which is still a family secret, so don't ask me what it is – but it was a few hours before she was feelin' well enough to go across the hall to Charlie's room.**

The young woman stood on the other side of his closed door and took a deep breath before she knocked three times.

"Come in," Charlie said.

Kelly slowly opened the door and saw Charlie sitting on his bed, cross-shuffling four decks of cards rapidly in short, sharp, precise, angry movements. For a moment Kelly stood mesmerized, then she remembered why she was there. "Charlie?" she said softly. Charlie didn't even pause. "Charlie, I know yer mad at me, and ya have every right to be, but I wanna say I'm sorry."

"For what?" Charlie asked as he stopped shuffling, looking up and frowning. "For getting drunk, for throwing up on me, or because I stopped you from getting another round?"

Kelly sighed. "Charlie, I -"

"You know what, I don't get you," Charlie interrupted as he stood up. "You claim to be a very smart person, and I've seen you do some very smart things, but then you go and do something really stupid – something that not only was embarrassing but put you in a very dangerous situation."

"I know I did a very stupid thing," Kelly said quietly.

"Wow, that's a shocker," Charlie replied sarcastically. "Maybe there's hope for you after all."

"Hey," Alan said as he walked in, looking sternly at his son. "Charlie, back off."

"Ya know," Kelly said, looking at Charlie with tears in her eyes, "let's pretend that I already feel extremely bad and humiliated by what I did – to myself and to all of ya – and ya don't have to rub it in anymore." She turned around and brushed past Alan, heading down the stairs.

Alan watched Kelly leave, then he turned back to Charlie, his eyes narrowed. "Sit down," he said, pointing to Charlie's bed.

"But -"

"I said sit down, Charles," Alan said, interrupting his son. Charlie's eyes grew wide, but he slowly sat back down on his bed. "Now, you are going to sit there and be quiet."

"What did I do?" Charlie asked. "I was just telling her how I felt."

"You were being mean," Alan replied. "And I taught you better than that."

"But -"

"You have every right to be upset with what happened," Alan replied. "But that doesn't give you the right to treat her like that. You are supposed to be her friend; stop acting like she's beneath you."

"But -"

"She is sorry for what she did," Alan continued. "She is trying to apologize and make amends – and the least you could do is listen to her and try to understand why she did what she did … just like she did for you a while back."

Charlie slowly looked up at his father and saw the disappointment in his father's eyes – and the mathematician shrank. He looked back down at his hands and sighed when the realization hit him. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," Alan said before walking out of his son's room.

Charlie sat on his bed for a few seconds before getting up and leaving, heading down the stairs. He looked around for Kelly, but she wasn't anywhere downstairs. He headed for the back door, thinking she was sitting near the koi pond, but when he opened the door and walked out she wasn't there. He was turning to go back inside when he heard some muffled noises coming from the garage; he looked over and saw the garage door open. He walked over and cautiously poked his head inside.

Kelly stood in front of a heavy punching bag (which he had seen when Kelly moved in), and she wore a pair of black punching gloves as she pummeled the bag with a variety of powerful punches while Trisha watched nearby. Charlie could see Kelly's face, but he didn't see the anger he was expecting; he just saw someone who looked very lost.

Trisha saw Charlie watching Kelly, and the agent could tell by his expression that he wanted to talk to Kelly. "I'm going to go get a drink," she said. She walked to the door and briefly patted Charlie's shoulder as she passed him, giving him an encouraging smile.

Charlie stood there for a few seconds, watching Kelly continue to punch the bag, then slowly walked over and stood beside her. "Kelly?" he asked softly. She didn't respond as she continued to punch the bag. "Kelly, can I talk to you?" he asked.

"Don't ya mean yell?" Kelly asked angrily, stopping and turning to look at Charlie. She breathed heavily, beads of sweat on her forehead. "Or maybe I'm too stupid to know the difference."

Charlie felt low. "Okay, I deserved that," he said. He sighed. "Kelly, I'm sorry I shouted at you … I had no right to say what I did." He pleaded with his eyes for her to accept his apology.

Kelly stared at him as her eyes welled up with tears, and Charlie shifted into protective mode. He gently pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her as she clung tightly to him, burying her head into the hollow that connected the front and top of his shoulder; he rested his cheek against her head.

"I am so sorry," she said softly as she cried.

"I know you are," Charlie replied.

"And I'm really sorry I threw up on ya," Kelly added.

Charlie chuckled. "It's okay," he said. "It was just a dumb sports coat." He pulled back to look at her, and he saw the tear streaks on her cheeks; he dabbed them away with his thumbs. "There, that's much better."

"So, ya don't hate me or want me to leave?" Kelly asked, still holding onto Charlie.

Charlie sighed. "Kelly, nothing you do is ever going to make me hate you or kick you out." He took in a deep breath. "So, can I ask why you did it?"

"Because I took somethin' a little too personally when I was younger," Kelly replied. "But don't worry … I won't be touchin' another drink for the rest of my life."

"That's good," Charlie replied. "I have a feeling I'll be doing the same. I tend to get a little weird when I've had too much to drink."

"What do ya do?" Kelly asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I tell people that I can create a magical equation that will work for any problem," Charlie replied sheepishly.

Kelly smiled, then looked serious again. "Charlie, when I was drunk … is there anythin' I should know about?" she asked. "Anythin' besides the Ketamine or me blowin' chunks on yer back?"

Charlie shook his head. "No," he said. "Nothing else really happened." He smiled at her, hoping she wouldn't question him any further. He knew how mortified she'd be if she learned what she'd said to him … and he'd probably laugh at him if she learned what he'd done to her would-be rapist.

"So, did I ruin yer sports coat?" Kelly asked after a few moments.

"Don't worry about the coat," Charlie said. "It's just a coat."

"Liar," Kelly replied, smiling. "Please, Charlie, let me pay ya back for the coat."

Charlie opened his mouth to decline, but he could see how important it was to her. He took a deep breath and nodded, smiling. "Okay," he said.

Kelly smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said. She sighed. "So, what are we gonna do now?"

"Well, I know we planned on getting your house key made today," Charlie replied, "as well as getting your driver's license, and I know Don planned to have you get the rest of your stuff for the FBI finished -"

"I think I blew my chances at workin' for the FBI," Kelly said glumly.

"I don't think so," Charlie replied. "If you had, then Don would have come home by now. As it is … we'll take care of everything tomorrow. In the meantime, we get to finish unpacking your room." He grinned as he gently took her wrists and tugged her out of the garage, and Kelly grinned back, allowing him to lead her.

(End of Chapter 20)


	21. Chapter 21

- - - - 

"What in the world?" Charlie asked, pulling out a white pillow in the shape of two large zeroes connected to each other. He raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Kelly as she took books out of another box and put them on the bookshelf next to the desk. She looked over, saw the double zeroes – and grinned.

"That goes on the bed," she said.

"But what is it?" he asked.

"It's the number of the Blue Angel," she replied.

"It looks like the number eight," Charlie said, holding the pillow to look like an eight. "Or," he turned the pillow sideways, "infinity."

Kelly smiled. "That pillow was handmade; it's very special to me."

"Well, then it'll go right beside Jeffery, Georgia, and Cali," Charlie said, smiling as he put the Double Zero pillow on the bed next to the stuffed giraffe and the Georgia bear and the California bears the Eppes had given her. He stopped and picked up the stuffed turtle next to the California bear, and he stared at it. "So, are you going to tell me who sent you this?" Kelly smiled and went back to unpacking her books. "Come on, Kelly, I'm dying to know."

"It's not that important," Kelly replied.

Charlie grinned and put the turtle back before grabbing a pillow and tossing it at Kelly; it hit her on the backside, and she yelped softly before turning around, a shocked expression on her face. "What?" he asked innocently.

"You know, I can still toss ya into the koi pond if ya need to be taught a lesson," Kelly warned, smiling.

Charlie held up his hands. "I give," he said before he went back to unpacking.

Kelly watched him for a few seconds before she went back to unpacking her books; after she finished unpacking the boxes she began sorting the books. She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice Charlie right away when he walked over, standing next to her as she organized them by subject, then by author.

"And I thought I had a lot of books," Charlie said, noting the large selection of topics that filled the shelves: psychology and related materials (including several books on serial killers), nature, cars, Sherlock Holmes, travel, Egyptology, an assortment of children's books, … and even a few books on politics. Charlie plucked one of the Abnormal Psychology journals off the shelf and flipped it open; he stopped and smiled when he saw Kelly's article. "'Reassessment of Profiling Methodologies Used by Federal Agencies to Increase Awareness of Potential Serial Killers in Today's Society.'" He pursed his lips. "So, even in your articles you like to talk a lot."

"Well, at least I spell all my words correctly," Kelly replied, smirking. "Mr. A-N-O-M-O-L-Y."

"I think Don needs to stop telling that story," Charlie replied, putting the book back on the shelf. "I mean, he and Dad cheated in that game."

"It's not their fault ya have such a big ego," Kelly replied smiling.

"And you don't?" Charlie said, smiling as he folded his arms.

"Oh, I know I have a big ego," Kelly replied, "but at least I don't hide it 'neath that hair." She ruffled his hair.

"Okay, leave the hair alone," Charlie said, smoothing his hair out, looking a little indignant, even though he smiled a bit.

Kelly smiled. "If ya think I have a big collection of books," she said, "ya should see my best friend's collection back in Hazzard."

"Was she cute?" Charlie asked.

Kelly smiled and reached down, picked up the pillow Charlie threw at her, and handed it to him. "Go put that back on my bed."

"What did I say?" Charlie asked, but Kelly refused to answer him as she continued sorting her books. He sighed and walked over to the bed; he put the pillow on her bed and picked up Jeffery, looking at him. "You have a very weird human."

Kelly chuckled, then turned her head when she heard her computer ringing. She left the shelf and hurried over to the desk, sitting down in front of her open laptop. She typed a few keystrokes, and a video window popped up; she grinned when she saw her father sitting at his desk, smiling at her. "Hi, Daddy."

"Hi, pumpkin," Cooter said. "Can you see and hear me okay?"

"Read you loud and clear, Sheepdog," Kelly replied. "How are your eyes and ears for me?"

"Lookin' and soundin' good," Cooter answered. He smiled, 'looking' behind her shoulder into her room. "I see yer unpackin' everythin'."

"Yep," Kelly replied. "Charlie's been helping me." She motioned Charlie to come over, but he shook his head. Kelly sighed. "Charlie, don't make me come over there."

"I think I'm going to leave," Charlie replied, edging toward the door.

"No you ain't," Kelly said, jumping from her seat. She hurried over and grabbed Charlie's hand, trying to tug him over, but he wouldn't budge. She sighed and tried to pick him up, but he was prepared for that, and he deftly grabbed her and picked her up. She yelped as he put her over his shoulder and brought her back to the desk; he set her down in the chair.

"Stay," Charlie replied. He turned to leave, but Kelly – not to be deterred - grabbed his wrist. "Kelly, let me go."

"Then stay here," Kelly insisted.

"Kelly, honey," Cooter replied, "let him go." Charlie looked a little smug. "But I would like to have a word with Charlie."

"What?" Charlie asked, his voice squeaking a little.

"Alone," Cooter added.

"What?" Kelly asked, looking affronted.

"You both heard me," Cooter replied. "Now, Kelly, git."

Kelly sighed, but she stood up. "Fine," she said. "I need to take some stuff down to the kitchen anyway."

"What kind of stuff?" Charlie asked warily.

Kelly walked over to an unopened box marked 'Kitchen,' and she picked it up. "Just some plates and things," she replied. She grinned suddenly. "Mostly Mason jars." She scooted out of her bedroom, humming 'Dixie.'

Charlie sighed, then glanced at the Vice-President watching him. He slowly sat down at the desk, looking nervous. "Hi, sir," he said.

"Hi, son," Cooter replied, smiling. "How are you this evenin'?"

"Good, sir."

"Don't worry about the Mason jars," Cooter replied. "They're just our version of drinkin' glasses. And about pickin' her up like that …," he grinned from ear to ear, "I see yer a fast learner."

"Huh?" Charlie asked.

"Sometimes ya gotta be a little forceful with Kelly," Cooter replied. "Sometimes that's the only way to reach her. Just keep that in mind, and don't let her walk all over ya."

"I won't," Charlie replied.

"Now, about why I wanted to talk to ya alone," Cooter replied, his voice and expression growing serious. "I wanted to personally thank ya for savin' my daughter's life – again." "What are you talking about?" Charlie asked.

"At the club," Cooter answered. "I read the paper: witness accounts saying they saw someone matchin' yer description confrontin' the weasel who tried to drug my daughter … dislocated his wrist, caused some muscle damage … had to have stitches in his hand where glass from the dropper he used cut him up … it don't take a genius to figure that one out." He took a deep breath. "Now, since Kelly didn't tell me any of this when we talked, I'm assumin' she doesn't remember it happenin'." Charlie started squirming. "Son, don't get yer shorts in a bind. I ain't here to tell ya to tell her what happened." He could see Charlie didn't look convinced. "Now, Charlie, I don't understand why ya don't want to tell her … but I will respect yer decision."

"You will?" Charlie asked.

"Yes," Cooter replied. "I just want to know one thing: please tell me that Ketamine isn't really a date rape drug." Charlie looked at Cooter uneasily as he stayed quiet, even though he wanted to lie … knowing how mad the Vice-President was going to be. Cooter sighed and pursed his lips, knowing what Charlie was saying with his silence. "Okay … well, I appreciate the honesty." He paused. "Just like I appreciate you bein' there for her when I can't." He saw Charlie's confused expression. "I'm gonna be honest with you about somethin', Charlie: this is the first time that Kelly and I have been separated like this … and I'm worried about her." He took a deep breath. "That's why I'm glad yer there for her … you and yer family."

Charlie smiled a little. "We won't disappoint you, sir," he said.

"I know ya won't," Cooter replied, smiling. "Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have to get some rest … and I think ya might have to prevent the South from risin' up in yer kitchen." Charlie chuckled. "Goodnight, Charlie."

"Goodnight, sir." He 'hung' up the video phone and got up, feeling a lot better as he headed out of the room to see what Kelly was up to in his kitchen.

- - - -

Kelly headed into the garage and saw Don shifting some boxes around, whistling 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams.' She silently watched him, smiling, not wanting to disturb him. She knew why she was out there, even though she couldn't fully understand why she was out there. After a few moments he looked over and saw Kelly watching him.

"Hey, you," he said, smiling. "What brings you out here?"

"Could ask you the same question," Kelly replied.

"Just moving some boxes around," Don said. "Trying to make some room for your stuff. So, what about you?"

"Oh, uh," Kelly said slowly, "well, uh … I wanted to get your opinion on something … if you're not busy, I mean."

"Is this about your eyes?" Don asked.

Kelly furrowed her eyebrows as she opened her mouth but didn't say anything for a few seconds. "Uh, yeah," she said slowly, feeling weirded out that he knew … her eyes must have really stood out if he noticed them.

Don had turned back after asking his question, so he couldn't see her expression, but he still smiled. He knew she was surprised that he'd noticed – apparently she had forgotten he was an FBI agent and trained to notice things – but he could also see that his opinion really mattered to her, even if he didn't know why; he was a little touched and warmed that she felt that way – it was like … like a little sister playing dress-up and wanting to know if her much older brother thought she was pretty. Hey, wait – not that much older! He still had game, he was just … much more experienced in the ways of the world. He contemplated that as he continued moving boxes. Kelly felt discouraged and sighed. She turned to walk out of the garage, so she missed Don shrugging. "I don't see why you're so insecure about them," he said.

Kelly stopped and turned around, a little freaked that he quietly and casually pegged her like that; she was all prepared for him to say 'they're just eyes,' and that would have been enough.

Don smiled a bit where she couldn't see. "I mean, call me crazy, but I think they're kind of cool." Kelly watched him as he went back to moving stuff, then she smiled slightly as she just stared at him for a few seconds. "Don't forget we have to go get the rest of your paperwork and stuff tomorrow."

"Okay," Kelly replied, grinning as she left, walking in such a way back to the house that she was practically skipping.

- - - -

_Five days later …_

Kelly stood in her bedroom, checking herself over one last time in the full length mirror near her dresser. She wore a snazzy black Tahari pantsuit with silver pinstripes. The jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a silk burgundy tank top; she wore black Bocca loafers on her feet – dressy but still comfortable for being on one's feet all day. Her hair was pulled back into a professional-looking French braid, and she wore simple gold hoops and her gold locket. She nodded, approving of her appearance, then reached for her contact lens case on her dresser. She glanced down at it and paused; she looked up at her reflection – and she smiled as she put the case back on the dresser. The young woman turned and grabbed the black attaché she had bought the day before (and had spent three hours last night filling it up with all kinds of things she thought she'd need for the day), and she headed out of her room and down the stairs.

Kelly smiled as headed into the dining room, where Charlie, Alan, and Trisha were already there, dressed, eating breakfast, and talking. The young woman cleared her throat, and everyone looked over as she smiled.

"Wow, look at you," Alan replied, smiling. "All professional-looking."

"I think you look great," Charlie said, grinning. Kelly blushed and ducked her head, then her stomach growled loudly. "You hungry?"

"Not really," Kelly replied. Truth be told, she was starving, but her stomach was full of butterflies … and nightcrawlers, and grasshoppers, and anything else she could imagine that wiggled and squirmed.

"Why don't you sit down anyway?" Alan suggested. "It couldn't hurt to eat something before Don comes by."

"Hello?" Don said as he opened the front door and came in, wearing a brown button down shirt with a white shirt underneath it, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, jeans, and brown boots.

"In here," Alan called out.

Don closed the door and headed over to the dining room. He stopped just inside and smiled at everyone. "Morning, guys." He saw Kelly dressed for the day. "Hey, you look good."

"What are you wearin'?" Kelly demanded, looking upset.

"Uh, clothes," Don replied.

"Yer wearin' jeans," Kelly accused.

"Your point?" Don asked.

"Ya told me that I had to wear somethin' 'professional-looking' to work," Kelly said. "I spent over three hundred dollars on this outfit – and you come in here wearin' jeans?"

Don raised an eyebrow. "Kelly, honey," he said gently, "it's called 'seniority.'" He knew dressing the way he did would annoy her – he just wanted to see how she'd react. He tried his hardest to keep a straight face, but he couldn't keep it up; he grinned at her.

"Ya did this on purpose!" Kelly said, pointing a finger at him. "Ya… ya … twit!"

"Come on, Kelly," Don replied, trying not to laugh, "you look good."

"Oh, stuff it," Kelly replied. "I coulda worn somethin' comfortable, but ya tricked me into wearin' this … this monkey suit! I could have been in jeans too; I can make jeans look good, just ask anyone!"

Don watched her as she continued to rant, then he casually leaned over and grabbed a slice of jelly toast from Charlie's plate; Charlie almost protested, but Don raised a finger, silently shushing him. The agent looked at Kelly, smiling – then he stuffed the toast into her mouth, effectively quieting her. For a moment Kelly stood stunned, staring down cross-eyed at the toast in her mouth, then looked up at Don as she slowly removed the toast.

"Are you ready to go, Beanie Baby?" Don asked, smiling.

"'Beanie Baby?'" Kelly asked. "Why did ya call me that?"

Don shrugged, grinning. "Well, sometimes you remind me of a Beanie Baby," he replied. "Soft and wild on the outside, and inside mostly a bunch of beans."

Kelly sputtered a little, even though she was feeling a little squishy that he had a name for her; she was more upset about the clothing thing. "I'm gonna go change," she replied.

"No can do, princess," Don said. "We have to go – now. We have a briefing in forty-five minutes." Kelly mimicked him as she marched out of the dining room. "Oh, and you look great without the contacts!"

Kelly stopped and turned around. "Really?" she asked, some of her fire gone.

"Yeah," Don replied. "I told you last week they looked cool – and I meant it."

"As do we," Alan added, smiling. Charlie smiled as well.

Kelly felt relieved they noticed – and approved … even though it was a little weird that she really cared about what they thought – even if she didn't know why. After a moment her smile faded as she glared at Don. "Don't think this lets ya off the hook for the clothin' thing, buster." She turned and headed out the front door, muttering in Chinese as Trisha followed her.

Don smiled. "Hey, no swearing!" He turned to Alan and Charlie. "What?"

"You do realize fooling her like that is going to lead to serious repercussions?" Charlie asked, a slightly amused expression on his face.

"How did you know she was swearing?" Alan asked.

"Oh, she told me she knows how to swear in twelve different languages," Charlie replied. "So, I told Don."

"Lovely," Alan replied wryly. "And no one thought to mention this to me?" He saw Don's grin. "Donny, I would watch that girl … she definitely has revenge in those eyes of hers."

"I think I can handle her," Don added. Charlie snorted. "You want to add something, bro?"

"Oh, nothing," Charlie replied, grinning. "Have a great day, Don." He went back to his meal.

Don sighed and shook his head, smiling. "See you guys tonight," he said before heading to the front door. Kelly and Trisha were waiting on the porch. "Let's go." He headed to his car, with the two women behind him. Trisha took the back seat, while Don and Kelly sat up front. Don started the car and pulled out of the drive, heading for his office; he glanced over and saw the young woman looking nervous, kneading her hands.

"There's some coffee for you in the cup holder," he said to Kelly as he drove through the traffic. "Sugar and cream, just the way you like it." Kelly glanced down at the two tall Styrofoam cups with lids in the cupholders. Don reached onto his dash and grabbed a small box, handing it to Kelly. "Thought you might be hungry too." Kelly opened the box and saw a couple of chocolate glazed doughnuts with rainbow sprinkles inside. She looked up at Don, smiling.

"Thanks," she said.

"No problem," Don replied, smiling as he kept his eyes on the road. "One of those is for Trisha."

"Actually, I already ate," Trisha said, smiling.

"How about some coffee?" Don asked.

"That I will agree to," Trisha replied, smiling.

Don smiled and handed one of the two cups to Trisha. "Sugar and cream."

"Thanks," Trisha said, carefully sipping the coffee.

"Okay, we need to talk," Don said as Kelly started eating. "Just a few things to remember before we get there. First of all, please be on your best behavior." Kelly snorted. "I mean it, sweetie."

"I'll behave," Kelly replied, smiling.

"Thank you," Don answered. "Now, one thing we do a lot of is G-14 paperwork. That's all the stuff related to our cases: research, whatever … so, if you're confused, just refer to the G-14 paperwork. If you can't find it, ask David, Colby, Megan, or myself; that's what we're here for."

"G-14," Kelly repeated. "Gotcha." She listened as she ate her doughnuts and drank her coffee while Don rattled off other things for her to remember. Soon, they were at the office; Don parked in his usual spot, and they all got out, heading into the building. They grabbed their IDs from the front desk and put them on as they headed for the elevators. They got on and rode to their floor, getting off and heading into the work area.

"Okay, we've got some time before the briefing," Don said, "and Megan told me she was going to give you some stuff to start working on, so let's get you settled in at your desk." The two women followed Don through the maze until they came to a sparsely decorated cubicle. "Here you go. Your assignment's in the Inbox; I'm going to go let Megan know you're here." He pointed to the empty cubicle across from Kelly's. "That's yours, Trisha."

Trisha nodded. Don had arranged for the Secret Service agent with Kelly to have his – or her - own area close enough to be able to watch Kelly but far enough away to not have the agent constantly looking over Kelly's shoulder.

"Thanks," Trisha said. Don nodded and left the two, and Trisha turned to Kelly. "Well, you better get to work. I'll be here if you need me." She headed to her cubicle and sat down, reading a book she'd brought from home. Kelly looked at her cubicle and took a deep breath before she walked in and sat at her desk, just staring at everything. Don watched Kelly from the briefing room, smiling a little, arms folded. Megan, David, and Colby stood with him.

"So, did you talk with her already?" Megan asked.

"Yep," Don replied, grinning. "She's familiar with all the procedures, including the G-14 paperwork."

"I still can't believe you guys are pulling that on her," Colby replied, shaking his head.

"It's an initiation thing," David replied, smiling. "Don did it to me when I came in, and we pulled it on you and Megan."

"And it's nothing but harmless fun," Megan added, grinning. Colby snorted, but he kept his mouth shut.

Kelly rummaged around in her attaché and stopped when she felt something odd. She furrowed her eyebrows as she pulled out a small abacus with beads in three different shades of blue. Five plain white cards were taped to it. Kelly took the cards off and put the abacus on the desk. She opened the cards, reading the handwritten note inside each one:

_You have come a long way since our paths first crossed, and I just wanted to say that I'm very proud of everything you've accomplished since then. I know you will do well in anything you put your mind to._

_Alan_

_----_

_Be proud of yourself, and don't sweat the little things. You'll do just fine._

_Don_

_----_

_Remember your past … and your future will be smooth sailing._

_Larry_

_----_

_Whenever you feel stuck, use this abacus and go back to the root of the issue. And remember that the rainbows are with you all the time._

_Charlie_

_----_

_Pumpkin, I sent this to the Eppes so they could give this to you. I just wanted to let you know that I am very, very proud of you. This is something you love doing, and I know you will do well. Just keep between the ditches … and remember that I will always be within reach if you ever need your old man._

_Love,_

_Daddy_

Kelly's eyes welled up with tears as she smiled, but she forced herself not to let the tears fall; she wasn't wearing waterproof mascara, and she didn't want to start her first day looking like a raccoon. She put the abacus and notes on the shelf above her computer, then she grabbed the paperwork and started on her assignment.

**Balladeer: Now, folks, I know that Kelly is on the other side of the country from her daddy, and she's gonna be there for quite some time … but I have a feelin' she's gonna be just fine.**

The End


End file.
